In Body and Spirit
by amorae
Summary: When Danny and Sam meet in an orphanage, neither are prepared for what lays ahead of them in the future. An unlikely friendship blossoms within the eight year old and ten year old, but secrets are apart of every relationship. DxS lots of fluff and tragedy
1. Beautiful Disaster

OH MY GOD. It's not only a series I intend to finish, it's a series I _have_ finished.

It's pretty simple, to be quite honest. The idea was given to me from a Javey (JadexDavey from AFI) fanfiction. I can't give the link but if you are interested, it's called "Will you cry for me?...or will you cry with me?"

Well, long story short, one of my closest friends (haha you guessed it...wolves-eye!) hates slash with a passion, and I really wanted her to read the fanfiction. So, as a result, I decided I'd change the plot dramatically and rewrite it as a DannyxSam. And here it is! The only thing that remained from the other fanfic was the orphanage and two other things (which she will get credit for when the time rolls around).

So, this is it. I've already written it, it's twenty five chapters. My beta reader--wolves-eye--fell in love with it immediately and cried a few times, so be forewarned!!

I mention some bands later on, so be on the lookout for them. AFI, MCR, Linkin Park, and Blaqk Audio. BLAQK AUDIO IS BLISS FTW.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM. 

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Ahaha...please, enjoy:D I hope those who have been pressing for a series will be pleased with this one!

* * *

She slammed her meager suitcase down on the floor and fought against her trembling lips. She had only been separated from her mother for a pitiful two days, and already she was gagging with sadness. Near whining in loneliness, she turned her eyes to the nurse and stared at the lips that moved. "Sam? Settle down, okay? Here, at this orphanage, you get your own room." She smiled in pride, as if it were her idea, as if she were the one ultimately responsible. "Once you're done doing your thing, head down the stairs and find me, alright, sweetie? My name is Karin." 

And with that Karin left, a swish of a plain white skirt the only reminisce of her in the room. Sam stared after the ghost of the skirt before turning her eyes to her suitcase. What had she brought along with her? Her favorite clothes, and that was it. Her black tank tops, her plaid red and white skirt, her plaid green and purple skirt, her black tees, her black long sleeves, her boots, her flats, her black tennis shoes, her fishnets (stockings and arm warmers)...what else was on the list? She closed her eyes, trying to remember, making sure she had everything in check. Her hair scrunches (black, red, white, purple, and green), her three or four pairs of jeans (all dark colors, nonetheless), a few pairs of socks, two pairs of pajama's, her three favorite band hoodies, and her four favorite band tee's. Yup, that was everything she needed, save the makeup that was currently in her purse.

She wrapped her finger idly around one of the many bracelets adorning her wrist, moving it up and down, biting her blackened lip. Her eyes lay open, amethyst and brooding. The bed looked so bare, so blank; they had brought some of her bedding along with her, so at least she had her Gir blanket and pillow. But that was it, and to be quite honest, the Gir blanket looked quite odd over the thin and crumpled white comforter.

It was hard to believe that her mother was actually _gone_. Had died, leaving her alone in the world. her father had died when she was young of a heart attack. No aunts or uncles would pick her up or take care of her. No grandparents to wrap their arms around her and whisper words of encouragement. She grumbled, remembering that she had once lived in a mansion; she was now using some of her parent's money to pay for the fancy orphanage.

A tear spilled from her eyes, but she quickly stemmed the flow. She didn't want questions, didn't want to cry. Taking her fist and rubbing angrily at her eye, she growled to herself. "Big girl's don't cry," she solemnly said, her voice wavering. "Big girls stand their ground and take the blows. Big girls are stronger than the boys!"

Moving her clothes into her wardrobe, she smiled rather bitterly. No colors in this girl's ensemble. She smirked at the thought, hanging up the last of her three long sleeved shirts, and continued on to put her shoes into the wardrobe. When she had accomplished the task of moving all of her stuff out of her suitcase, she grimly snapped it shut, tucked it away, and turned away from the wardrobe. Taking her purse from around her shoulders, she hung it on the bedpost and stared at the door wearily.

Breathing deeply, she extinguished any wishes to stay hidden in the room and stomped out. Her boots clonked against the tiles almost annoyingly; she saw one or two girls stick their head out of their rooms questioningly. A blighted smile danced on her lips as she raised her small hand and flipped the girls off. They squealed, slamming their doors shut. Sam gave out a harsh laugh, jumping down the steps, looking for the girl who had dubbed herself 'Karin.'

Karin was sitting on one of the couches that adorned the sitting room. She saw boys and girls hovering over one another, too young to have any serious feelings for one another, other than friendship. Karin was talking to another caretaker, laughing and using her hands. Sam froze, feeling a strange sense that she was talking about herself.

"...honestly, I've never seen such a small girl wear that much black."

"How strange!" the other announced, giggling aggravatingly. "Do you think it could be because—"

"No!" Karin said a little too enthusiastically. "I was with her as she picked out her clothes; everything she owns is blacker than black. It's so strange!"

Sam's eyes narrowed, her hands balling into fists. So they were like everyone else. She twitched her fingers angrily, eager to feel flesh pull against her knuckles. Namely, the flesh on Karin's face, and while she was at it, the one with the weird laugh as well.

Making her appearance known, Sam stepped out of concealment and tried not to make her glare too icily. "Oh, Sam!" Karin exclaimed happily, her eyes glazed over as if trying to hide the fact that the two were just gossiping about her. "Are you all settled in?"

She nodded, gazing at the ground. The one thing she hated more than those who gossiped were those who lied, or pretended things were different than they really were.

"Well, dinner will be in an hour. Why don't you try to make some friends?" she said encouragingly. "There are plenty of girls your age around here. Go on!" A stupid, bright, straight-white-teeth smile followed the words. Sam glared openly, not disguising her dislike towards Karin any longer (it was too tiring, according to her), and stomped off.

Her eyes scanned the room. It was large, with around seventy five or so kids playing in it. She knew there were one hundred and twenty-two kids exactly in the house (she was informed she was the one hundredth and twenty second person when she arrived). As her eyes scanned, they caught on a person in particular; a boy, she noted upon closer inspection. His hair was a violent shade of black, deep and steady in their depth. She stared at him, a bit speechless.

Tilting her head to the side, she pursed her lips and watched him. He was sitting there, staring out one of the windows, a book angled at a decline that would have been impossible to read by if he had been actually reading. His eyes were a quiet and light shade of blue. They were raised skyward, as if he were watching for something. He was a teenager, at least two years older than Sam was at that moment.

The reason she was so immensely drawn to him, however, was that he was the only person without a partner in the room besides her. Every other person sat, rather contentedly, with at least one other person. But not him. Was he a loner? Or just having a bad day? Was he like her—he wasn't wearing black, but maybe they were all in the washer?

She took a step towards him, and gathering courage, walked straight towards him. He sat on the ledge of the window. Sam sat down on the empty space between the wall and his sneaker.

He turned his face away from the window, looking slightly surprised at the intrusion. "Huh?" he asked, as if company was hard to come by in his world.

"My name's Sam," she told him boldly. There she was, back to her old personality again. It was nice, not being so nervous, shy, and unsure any longer. She puzzled over the change in personality briefly; shouldn't she be more uncomfortable? But she quickly brushed the thought away and gave a half hearted smile to him.

"Danny," Danny said unenthusiastically. Sam pulled her legs up, thankful she wore her plaid black and white pants, and grinned at him. He smiled back weakly.

Acting on a surge of bravery, she stabbed at the chance of conversation with him. "Wh'at'cha doin'?" He gave her a funny look, as if she were trying to goad him into doing something he would regret later. She resisted the urge to bite her lip; all she wanted to do was talk, she wasn't aiming for making him uncomfortable. Toying with the idea of just getting up and leaving, she steadied her hands to hoist herself up when he answered.

"Looking at the sky." He paused, stared at her intently again, and returned his gaze to the sky. "It's pretty, you know? Different. Unpredictable. One minute it can be bright blue, the next minute obscured with clouds...or other things...," his voice trailed off.

Sam scrunched her eyebrows together. "Like birds?"

Danny suddenly gave out a laugh. It was happy, alight with amusement. Sam fell in love with the noise immediately, inwardly lusting for the noise to keep playing over and over in her mind. Danny's hand reached out and he ruffled her hair slightly. "Not my original thought, but I suppose close enough."


	2. Unlikely Friendship

Second Chapter, yayy D Simple, what just happened and a little more in Danny's perspective. -shrug-

Thanks for the reviews! They mean a lot. I'm serious! I got a lot of really nice reviews and I'm really thankful. MADE ME HAPPY!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Enjoy!

* * *

She was cute, in a strange, out of the ordinary way, Danny decided. When she had come over, he was expecting her to scoff at him, as did so many of the younger kids. But after closer inspection he noticed she wasn't exactly like the other kids. She was decked out in all black, a change from the clothes most of the kids here wore. It was an orphanage for kids who had a decent amount of money to tap into; many of the kids were wearing Abercrombie and Fitch, or some other designer brand. Never, at least to his knowledge, had a kid came in wearing fishnet arm stockings, chunky black boots, a black tank top, and thickly painted eyes. 

"Wh'at'cha doin'?" she asked. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her, but laugh while he did it. He liked her voice; it was gentle. He wondered how old she was.

"Looking at the sky," he told her idly. Then, without meaning to, he began to ramble; "It's pretty, you know? Different. Unpredictable. One minute it can be bright blue, the next minute obscured with clouds...or other things..." It had taken all his self control not to say 'ghosts.' He was sure that she would step away from him fearfully the minute he said it; and he didn't want that. He hardly admitted it to himself, but her company was nice. She had a rather calming aura to her, one that Danny enjoyed.

He looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction, and saw an adorable expression flit across her face. His heart did a back flip inside of his chest cavity. He nearly gasped at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling. "Like birds?" she asked, perplexed.

Danny couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. She was so damned cute! Birds? Where the hell had that come from?

Still chuckling, he ruffled her hair, a sudden urge to touch her washing over him and gaining dominance. "Not my original thought, but I suppose close enough," he laughed.

She smiled at him, not really getting the joke. But Danny didn't expect her to. "How old are you?" he asked. "I'm ten." He stretched his fingers above his head and yawned idly. He rolled his eyes at her, smiling a lop sided smile.

"I'm eight," she said brightly. "My birthday's in six months. I can't wait!" Childish anticipation for her birthday, Danny noted. They really weren't that far off; his eleventh birthday would be in five months, so that left the two twenty five months apart. Danny raised his hand, aiming for a high five. She slapped it back and the two grinned at each other.

Talk continued like that for quite a while; one asking a question, and the two would engage in conversation on the question's topic. Hew as surprised at how much they had in common; she was younger, and, much stranger, a girl.

Finally, they called out dinner. Danny grumbled. "About time," he sighed.

Sam looked up at him inquiringly. He patted his stomach and let out a laugh. "I'm starved! I skipped lunch because...I had to do something."

Wow, what a crappy lie. He hit himself mentally but pretended that he wasn't lying to her, so she wouldn't pick up on it. She nodded, as if she understood.

Danny took Sam's hand. "I'll show you where the dining room is." He smiled. She smiled back at him, grinning like a school girl. she really was quite cute, he decided with an inward sigh. She reminded him of a doll. He also loved the fierce independence she reeked of; her clothing style, the way she talked, and her rather insane views on every topic there was. She was so opinionated it was comical. He had always been drawn to people who expressed their thoughts, and there was no doubting that Sam did just that.

The two sat together, chatting animatedly. Karin and her friend, Sophia, sneered at one another. "Of course Sam hits it off fantastically with the other odd kid," Karin scoffed. Sophia nodded, smiling in a matter in which it was easy to see there was no genuine sorrow.

"She just picked the absolute most-wrong person to befriend. He's going to ruin her, make her rotten!"

Karin rolled her eyes and continued on eating as Danny and Sam, oblivious to the taunts, talked more and more. Danny was shocked at how easy it was to talk to her; she wasn't biting with her differences. She accepted that he thought a certain way, just as he felt the same for her. In a way, he felt it was almost comical when the two disagreed. Sam's outraged groan, shaking her head and putting her hands over her eyes. Her little pleas of "please tell me you're joking!" or "I accept you feel that way, even if I don't agree." And that flash of that wicked, cute, horribly adorable little grin.

Dinner ended, and the group had three more hours until it was lights out. Danny grabbed his notebook, meaning to work on some of his more complicated pieces of homework.

Sam jeered at him. "You're going to do _homework_?"

Danny rolled his eyes at her, already feeling as close to her as if they had been friends for years, not merely four hours. "Yeah. You see, Sam, when you get into fifth grade, things get really difficult." _And when you're fighting ghosts half the time during the classes, it doesn't make class work and homework any easier_!

She hoisted herself up on the ledge by the window and gazed at his notebook. She laughed at the scribbles of equations for his math class, and laughed even harder at his doodles. "I see you pay much attention in class."

He grinned impishly. "Well, I guess I do. I pay attention to drawing, at least."

Taking the pencil from his hands, she balanced it on her upper lip, crossing her eyes to look at it. She giggled at how the pencil quivered slightly. Danny felt a twist in his heart at how adorable the action was, but quickly stifled the thought and feeling. She was twelve, for chris'sake! He couldn't like her, not with the two year age difference between them.

The time flew by in an almost comical blur, making their time together seem as if it were mere seconds. Finally night fell and he headed towards the hallway. One side of the hallway was for girls, the other boys. They stood at her room (his room was further back) and stared at each other.

"Bye," she said weakly, as if she were experiencing the overwhelming sense of loneliness that he was feeling at the mere prospect of leaving each other. He hugged her tightly.

"Tomorrow's Saturday—we can hang out all day, okay?" He was about to hit himself over the head as he heard the whine, the beg, the plead in his voice. He expected her to stare at her strangely and exclaim something like "why would I wanna hang out with _you_," but he was surprised by her reaction.

"Okay!" she shouted, giving him a quick squeeze. She barely grazed his nose, resulting in him getting an unexpected mouthful of hair. He hugged her back, smiling into her hair and feeling sick just knowing he'd have to wait eight or more hours to see her again.

How was it possible that in merely four, five, six hours, the two had grown as close as they would have been if they had known each other all their lives?


	3. Just Talk to Me

Thanks SO friggin' much for all the reviews! You guys bring smiles to my face. Thank you!!

Let me clear something up; in UF, I am assuming I mention Sam is twelve once or twice? THIS IS A TYPO. Origionally, Sam was twelve and Danny was fourteen (just as a large part of the story takes place when the kids are that age). But after a little bit of thinking, I realized there was no way in the entire universe people could go through what the two went through after only knowing each other for a month, so I changed the ages back to the origional idea; eight and ten. Thanks to everyone who pointed that out to me. I feel bad; I reread the piece a few times but I must have skimmed over the fact.

Also, I want people to understand this; I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE POINT OUT MY MISTAKES. Please don't go "this lyke ttly suks, u r a bitch & u cant rite at al! GO AWAY U FREEK," but feel free to point out a spelling mistake, some sort of screw up like before hand, or anything of the sort (just not grammar because I have a weird way with grammar where it's "acceptable" when you finish the actual piece). So, please, if you find mistakes...tell me! I'm a quest to become a better writer anyway!

Sorry, this is sort of filler chapter, but it's kind of important. So...yess! Lol I'll keep updating at about this pace, between two and three days each time.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Once again, thanks! Enjoy this next chapter!

* * *

Danny jolted awake as he panted. Not another nightmare; the nightmares seemed to never cease. His hands flew to his face, and he groaned darkly as he realized they were transparent. "Dammit," he muttered to himself, lips blue and his body cold. He made his hands rematerialize before turning to the blazing red lights and reading the time. "Three Oh-Five," the clock sang to him.

He groaned, rolled over, and pulled his head under his pillow. His fingers twitched irritably, wondering when the next ghost was going to attack. He hated not having the luxuries of a ghost portal at his call; it was quite a miserable feat, beating one ghost one day, only to have them turn around and come sneering back to him. At least he had mastered that nifty trick of creating portals out of thin air! He had acquired it quite easily, not really having to work at it.

He remembered—back when his mom, dad, and sister Jazz were alive—the three of them oblivious to his powers as he struggled to control them. And then the horrible freak accident, when he had been at school for detention. The one where the ghosts broke free of their personal ghost portal, wreaking havoc on the house and ultimately killing his family.

He gulped, angry that the tears were washing over his eyes so freely. Goddamn! Why hadn't he been there? Why had he been so careless as to not be able to help them? To get himself thrown in detention for not doing his homework four times? He groaned, rubbing at his eyes with the butt of his palms, and nearly screamed at how wet his eyes came back.

There had been the custody fight, of course. Random family members coming to claim him. Then Vlad Masters, in the flesh, materializing and winning most of the lawsuits by flashing his wealth at them. He grit his teeth together angrily thinking of Vlad. But, in the end, Danny was able to choose; and of course he chose an orphanage.

Living there for around six months, he had stumbled into the ordeal of life as an orphan. He had hated it; the first few nights it was all he could do not to sob at the mere mention of his family. He even missed Jazz, and he had hated her before then.

But as time moved on, and as ghosts started to realize he had moved, they began to attack him in his new town. And he knew—he had to protect them as he had protected Amity Park. It was aggravating, going back into the grind of life that reminded him so much of his parents. The ghost hunters, the world-whack-jobs, the whack-jobs who had been brutally murdered by ghosts. The worst part of it was, he couldn't tell anyone he knew who the murderer's were; he would be locked up immediately. He had to stay quiet, the burden of being apart of the same race as his family's murderers heavy on his shoulders.

Tears streaked down his cheeks pitifully. And here he was, a guy, crying his heart out. Again. He rubbed furiously at his eyes, knowing they were flashing green with white hot anger.

His mind dithered to Sam. Her sweet face, grinning happily up at him, her beautiful eyes alight with emotion. Burning with the emotion, literally relentless in the sinking pool. He sighed rather happily, thinking about how nice it had been to hug her.

Slowly, he drifted back to sleep, his mind allowing him to rest as he thought of Sam.

He awoke in the morning by rasps on his door. Mumbling, he raised his head, his pillow rather damp from the crying jag hours before. "Yeah?" he called sleepily.

He rolled out of bed at her voice.

"Can I come in, Danny?" she asked softly, tentatively, as if expecting rejection. Danny wanted to take any fears she had of him not accepting her into his room and shove them up someone's—

He spoke too quickly, all too eager to see her again. "Yeah, sure, come in," he gushed.

She bounded into the room, grinning from ear to ear, flinging herself into his arms. "I missed you," she said as she hugged him tightly around the waist.

Danny let out a laugh at her, putting his hand on her head and pressing it closer to his chest. He sighed contentedly, stroking her hair calmly. "We've only known each other for a little more than twelve hours." He pulled her head away and held her face in his hands. "I missed you too," he added softly.

She smiled, causing Danny to nearly tear up at how cute it was. She pulled away, but grasped tightly to his hands, smiling at him happily.

"What do you want to do today?" Danny asked, sitting down on his bed, dragging Sam along with him. She pulled her legs up under herself (adorned in black flats with stars laced around them, a pair of jeans, and a short sleeved band tee).

Still holding his hand, she gave him a blithe smile. "Do you wanna just talk?"

He nodded. "That's fine by me!"

The two talked and talked. Breakfast was an option, so no one came to bug them to come down. All too soon, it rounded twelve o'clock. Danny happened to glance at the clock before jumping up in surprise and groaning.

"Shit," he said, looking briefly at Sam and then tearing off his shirt. He stumbled to his wardrobe, pulled on a basic white tee, and slipped off his pants to reveal boxers.

He turned his head and smirked at her. "You can stop staring," he informed her, wagging his butt at her. She blushed profusely, looking away. She had been staring, and drooling, if she were to be honest with herself. She had seen him without a shirt on, and then with boxers on. Albeit, he had something else on during either occasion, but a very large part of her had died of joy at the sight of his chest. And of his boxers.

Dressed, Danny tugged on socks and shoes. "What's the mayhem for?" Sam finally asked, after finding her voice. Seeing Danny like that robbed her of her sanity momentarily.

"They'll come and grab us if we're late for lunch," Danny said, hopping on one foot as he pulled the shoe over his foot. "And girls can't be in boys dorms, and vice versa. I forgot about that. They perform checks, somewhat periodically during the night. And then during the day at random times. At night they check all the rooms, during the day they check only certain ones on certain random days of the week."

Shoe on his foot, he grabbed Sam off the bed and flung her off of it. She stumbled forward, grumbling, as he shoved her out the door. She gave a squeak of indignation but other than that didn't protest his frantic attempts to get her out of the room.

He jumped out, acting as if he were not guilty of anything, and snatched her hand. A flash of a grin, and him rolling his eyes. "We can hold hands, although they do get gossipy. Let's give them something to gossip about for a bit, shall we?"

Grinning rather mischievously, Sam gripped his hand tightly. "If we want to freak them out, why not tell them I slept in your room last night?" Sam asked innocently. Danny choked with laughter.

"Uh, I think they'd have us arrested."

She shook her head indignantly, stomping her foot down as they headed down the steps. "No! You can't get arrested for sleeping in someone's room."

Danny shushed her, however, for fear that someone would over hear. The two dashed to the dining room, not caring that they were late. Danny felt content by her side, gripping her hand. It was warm, soft, and overly inviting. A part of him wondered what her lips would feel like if her hands were that soft. He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind, slightly angry he had even thought it.

Raising an eyebrow at his headshake, Sam opened her mouth to ask. But just then they reached the dining room doors. A quick smirk was shared between the two as they burst through the doors, gripping hands, walking to the line for food.

Danny pointed to the orange glob with their entwined hand. "See that? Can you guess what it is?"

Sam looked at it as if it were going to climb out of the container and eat her. "Mutant pasta?" she guessed. He laughed, nodding and holding his tray over the counter for the food.

"Close enough. Mac and Cheese."

Sam's face paled. "Okay. I really wish I hadn't heard that information!" She shook her head as the pasta was slapped onto her tray. "If this is a orphanage for rich orphans, why can't the food be halfway decent?"

Danny shrugged, grabbing a brownie and nodding in approval as she reached for her own. "I think it's against the law that any area with many kids in it should have good food."

Giggling, she nodded and ran to grab a Snapple. Danny couldn't help the feeling that he was high, just off of the insane laughter. He wanted to laugh along with her, grip her hands, press his lips against hers, run his hands through her hair…

He shook his head again, scowling slightly, and turned to exit the line with his tray, as he was done grabbing his food. Sam followed, and the two found their own table, resuming conversation immediately.


	4. Fifteen Should be Special, Right?

This is probably...one of my favorite things I have ever written. I love this chapter. For reasons that you guys will find out soon enough!

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! You guys make me happy, lol! I swear, everytime I get someone saying "I love this" or "this is good!" it makes me smile. So...thank you!!

Oh, and warning; this is where things jump from "Sam and Danny are eight and ten" to "Sam and Danny are twelve and fourteen," so that's just for your information. DON'T BE SURPRISED. I didn't want to write an epic tale or anything, and believe me this is like twenty thousand words. I had origionally planned to go back and write a chapter in between the transition but...I figured it was long enough already. XD

Anyway, I'm sure you guys will like this one as much as I do...hah! XXD So...enjoy! NOW HERE COMES THE DISCLAIMERS.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Enjoyy!

* * *

Days melded into weeks. Weeks flew by, quickly molding into months. Months magically became years. Eventually, it was nearing Danny's fifteenth birthday; he was still shocked that he was about to turn fifteen, Sam thirteen.

"Don't you dare get me anything," Danny growled to Sam. "If you get me anything, I'll kill you," he swore.

Sam smirked and touched his nose gently. "Big bad Danny," she purred. "Going to kill the cute, petite girl. Oh dear! So manly!"

He play snarled, gripping her shoulders and throwing her to the ground of her room. She let out a holler of laughter, flinging her body around with amazing force and gaining the upper hand. She had him pinned down now (partly on his part of work, of course) and was leaning over him.

The two had grown close over those four years together. The laughs that the two were a couple grew fiercer as days passed by and the two became more and more close. School was all they could handle; since Danny got out before her, he'd wait by the doors of the school, jotting down drawings of the two in his notebooks. He never showed her, but some kids who had dared to try and snatch the notebook guessed. "You're in love with a middle schooler!" they'd crow, and he'd scowl. But he never denied it.

Now, as Sam hovered over him, it was all he could do not to grip her head and kiss her. He had decided within the first two weeks of knowing her that he was horribly, truthfully, and completely in love with her. He was terrified to tell her, terrified to advance past the stage of holding hands; terrified of rejection from her.

She blinked at him, overwhelmed. She stared into his eyes, into the longing she could find quite easily in them, and then felt her heart hammering in her throat. Her brain screamed at her, _kiss him, you idiot_! _This might be your only chance_!

Her lips grew dry as she stared down at him. Her hands entwined in his, holding them tightly, staring down with large eyes.

Involuntarily, she leaned downward, a part of her mind exasperated with her lack of courage at the one point she wanted it the most. She tried not to gasp in fear at what she was about to do, but kept leaning downward.

The decline seemed to last decades. She was terrified he was going to shove her off of him, tell her to leave and never talk to him again. But to her surprise, he leaned forward, and their lips met.

She felt her heart stop. His lips were soft, rather cold, but all together amazing. She, still hoisted up barely by her hands that were pressed against his, which were pressed against the floor, fought hard not to just collapse on his chest. His lips felt amazing; better than any of her fantasies during boring school lectures had ever given them credit to be.

Danny's head exploded as her lips meshed against his. _Finally_, he sighed, turning into the kiss and enjoying it. She seemed to be enjoying it, too; the way she was pressing against his lips made him think she wanted it maybe more than he had.

Pulling back for breath, the two laughed and Sam finally collapsed on top of him. She shook her head, pressing her head against his chest, laughing weakly. Danny took his hands, pulled her head up, and leaned forward again. He was eager to feel her lips against his again; and by the ease in which she agreed, he was positive she felt the same way.

Lips meeting once again, he pulled her on top of him. Holding her head with his hands, firmly grasping it and making sure it didn't linger backwards, he kissed her. If it was at all possible, this kiss was even better than the first. He thought it may have had to do with the fact that she was on top of him, gripping his head as he gripped hers.

Once again, the reason they pulled away was for air. They leaned upwards, grinned at each other, laughed in relief, and gripped each other tightly.

As Danny stroked her hair, sitting on the floor, arm wrapped around her waist, he heard her whisper softly. "I think I love you, Danny."

Danny grinned, pulling his face closer to her ear. "Think? I've known I loved you after the first two weeks of knowing you."


	5. The Start of a Tradition

I sound like a broken record.

I. FUCKING. LOVE. YOU. GUYS! You guys make me go very smiley! SO THANK YOUU. Like I've said in a few replies, I wasn't expecting reviews so you guys REALLY shocked me!! Thank you...it means a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

This is...an interesting chapter o.O; Just enjoy, I'll probably be posting up chapter six tomorrow.

Thanks again...you guys ROCK MY SOCKS!

**isclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Enjoy!

* * *

His fists smacked into the ghost's ectoplasmic body, the goo coming off onto his glove and smearing it a disgusting shade of green. "Ew," he moaned, smashing his fist into the ghost's face and quickly creating a portal. Picking up the unconscious ghost with a angry grunt, he threw the ghost into the portal and closed it by gripping the top and bottom and pulling his hands closer together.

Grim satisfaction flawed his features as he turned away, hovering in the air, and dove towards the direction of the orphanage. Thoughts of Sam lit up his mind. It was midnight, dark and dank, officially the day before his fifteenth birthday. As Sam lingered on his mind, on his lips, her taste still thick in his mouth, he began to tremble.

She had kissed him. He had kissed her. And yet, would she still want to kiss him if she knew what he was? If she knew he was part ghost? He could hear his parents' jeers over ghosts, the taunts, _how can a ghost love_?

His hands balled into fists as he spiraled into his open window. Sitting on his bed, quietly transforming, he stared down angrily at his hands. Why had he been cursed with the stupid, disgusting, annoying genetic mutation that claimed him dead to doctors, but alive to others? His fist slammed into his bed angrily, tears stinging his eyes.

He loved Sam. He loved her. And he knew that if she even faltered at the news of him being part ghost—which he was sure she would—he would die within himself.

---

Across the hallway, she whimpered softly. Nightmares of her mother dying haunted her like a leech. Seeing her lying in the bed, sickly and pale as snow, holding her freezing hand as the monitor gave way to a dull, long, flat beep. Being shoved away from the bed, screams on her part, doctors shouting orders to one another.

She cried in her sleep, tears seeping down into her pillow. Startling awake, she sobbed openly, gasping for breath and air. She looked around herself, at the small bed, at the isolation. Finally, unable to take it, she stood up.

Creeping to the door, she quietly stuck her head out the door and stared intently out. Everything seemed safe; no nurses waiting to grab her for wandering the halls at night. Gently she tip toed to Danny's room, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She knocked gently, wincing as her fist reverberated against the wood.

He curiously opened the door, blinking rather owlishly. He gasped and wrenched her into the room, gripping her shoulders, staring intently down at her. "What happened?" he whispered fiercely, leaning down in front of her and staring intently into her eyes.

She gulped. "Nightmare," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gently held her waist, whispering words of comfort into her ear.

"It's okay. I love you, Sam, forget the nightmare. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too," she sobbed, tears renewed. He sighed, pulled her softly to the bed, and gently pried her arms off of him.

He carefully put her on the bed. "Lie down. Sleep."

She whimpered, tears still falling thick and fast from her eyes. She curled into a ball, hiding in her own world. Feeling her pain crash around him, Danny nearly fell to the ground in her unbearable sadness. Crawling into bed, he curled his body around her own, wrapping his arms around her. She put her head against his chest, dampening the cloth from her tears. He freed one of his hands, pulled the covers over her head (in the off chance that someone would check in at this hour of the night), and waited for the shaking sobs to reside.

Once they had, he stopped stroking her hair, but placed it comfortingly upon her head. "I love you," he told her, and slowly drifted into his own world of sleep.

The next morning, his birthday, he gripped her tighter, thinking she was a pillow. He moaned, wishing the dream hadn't ended. He grudgingly opened his eyes to find, in the veil of the blanket, that she was indeed still next to him.

He sighed happily, picking up stroking her hair again. He guessed it was about six in the morning; school for both of them started at seven thirty.

Knowing that she would spend some time getting dressed, he decided it was time to wake her up. "Wake up, Sunshine," he whispered in her ear.

"Mmmm," she mumbled.

Acting on impulse, Danny began to sing to her. "You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine…you make me happy, when sky's are grey…"

A smile tugged at her lips. Danny knew she was still sleeping. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew. "Mmmm…Danny…," she sighed, her smile growing broader.

Danny felt a surge of joy course through his body. Nearly passing out with emotion, he lowered his head and pressed his lips gently against hers. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So please, don't take my Sunshine away." He whispered the words on her lips before gently touching her lips with his again.

He moved his head upwards and pressed his lips against her forehead. "But Sunshine has to get up now," he said softly.

She moaned, moving slightly. Immediately her hands reached out and gripped Danny's body, as if making sure he was still there. He laughed, pulling away and lifting a closed eyelid. She blinked, shaking her head against the unfair revival of consciousness, and let a smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, birthday boy," she smirked. He laughed, pulled the covers off of the two of them, and gently eased her out of bed.

He carefully pecked her on the lips. "Go get dressed. Try not to let anyone see you, okay?"

She let herself sneer. "As if I'd purposely get caught!"

"I wouldn't know." He grinned. "Maybe this is all just a ruse."

She snorted. "I don't toy with people's emotions; especially not my own!"

But she headed out then, laughing all the while. Danny sighed happily, turning to his clock and finding his timing was accurate. He pulled on a shirt and a pair of jeans, deciding that finding her asleep in his arms was by far the best birthday gift he had ever received.


	6. But the Truth Might Hurt

Thank yoouu! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this! Thats all I can pretty much say on it XD

This chapter is mean, but...not as mean as the next nineteen chapters HAHA.

Sorry I didn't post this last night as I had origionally promised, I had a really bad night. Boring things that are of no interest to you guys, I'm sure, but lets just say my mom and I got into a huge-ass fight, and I was up until three AM trying to calm down by listening to MCR. I did calm down so that's good. (My Chem has a magic touch with me, I've noticed.) Sooo here's the chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

I hope you guys like it xP

* * *

Lunch break; take out the lunch, replace with ghost, and take out the break and replace it as hunt, and you'd get Danny's thirty-minute period for lunch. He lifted Skulker up without hesitation, high on the mere thought of Sam and her sweet kisses the night before. "It's my fifteenth birthday, and I've finally got a girlfriend. So can you leave me alone, just this once?" he snarled angrily into his face.

Skulker laughed. "Who would date scum like you?"

"Someone who's a helluva lot better than you!" Ripping open a portal, he thrust the thrashing Skulker in and slammed it shut.

Sinking to the ground, Danny quickly checked to make sure no one was watching, and leapt upwards once again. He checked his watch; he had five minutes to get back to school. It was enough time, he decided.

Speeding over buildings as to not be noticed, he dipped and dived, still high on the night before and waking up gripping Sam. Not even doubts she would accept him haunted his mind at that moment. All he cared about was that she had kissed him, had _kissed him_, and obviously liked him.

He dropped in one of the more shadowy and concealed parts of the school's exterior and quickly transformed back into his human half. Walking idly back into the school, he went to his locker, grabbed the books he needed next, and headed towards his class.

After what seemed like an eternity, school ended. He ran to the middle school, never so eager to find Sam. She finally came out, scanning the crowd of teachers and parents for him. When she found him, a smile shone on her face. She dashed towards him and flung herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

"Well, I can't tell at all that you missed me!" he huffed, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to peck her lips. He didn't care who saw; let people gawp and gossip.

She giggled on his lips. "I'll tell you, then. I missed you, Danny Fenton! I missed you because I love you, Danny Fenton, you freakish fifteen year old!"

He grinned down at her and gripped her hand as the two began to head back towards the orphanage.

"Got a lot of homework?" Danny asked, looking at her bulging backpack. She nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Finals. You know how they give you the test-out finals and stuff. So much stuff to study!"

"Hah! Those are just play tests compared to the actual finals. Take comfort in the simple tests now!"

They bickered on the way to the orphanage, laughing and giggling together as usual. But when they came to the orphanage, Karin bounded to Sam and Danny, looking ecstatic.

"Have you heard the news?" she gushed.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No?"

She smiled broadly at Danny, and a sudden sinking feeling rose in his stomach. "Danny's finally going to get adopted!"

Both their worlds crashed. Danny stared at her for a few unbearable seconds, before finally muttering a disgruntled "what the hell? By who?"

Karin looked a bit confused at his less than enthusiastic response. "By Vlad Masters, of course!" She grinned at the two of them, oblivious. "He won the custody battle! You'll be leaving in a month, on June twenty third."

Sam nearly screamed. "BUT THAT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" she hollered, tears actually spilling. Karin stared at her, a little perturbed by the tears.

"I can't help it that you're too selfish to be happy for Danny," she sniffed. Then, turning back to Danny, she gripped his shoulders and shook him. "Vlad Masters! Can you believe it, Danny?" She nearly squealed.

Danny tried to remind himself to breathe. Karin, finally realizing she wasn't going to get a good response from him, trudged back into the house, looking very annoyed. After he was positive she could not see or hear Sam and himself, he turned to her.

She had tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, don't say it's true!" she begged.

"I wouldn't know," Danny sighed sadly. "Damn Vlad…," he muttered to himself, before turning to Sam and gripping her shoulders. "I hope to God I'm not really leaving."

"I don't know what I'll do without you," Sam admitted, putting her head on his shoulder and crying freely. "Please, please, please don't leave me!"

Fighting hard against his own tears, Danny gripped her tightly and hugged with all of his might. "I'll do everything in my power," he vowed. But, with a wry smile, he lifted her chin to him. "Let's at least enjoy this last month together, okay?"

Sam nodded, gulping. "Where are we going to go?" she asked hollowly. "We can't be ourselves in that god forsaken orphanage. After all, they're the ones that are tearing us apart," she muttered darkly.

Danny gave her a lopsided grin, honestly trying his hardest to be cheerful. He grabbed her hand as the two abandoned their bags on the steps, confident Karin or Sophia would come out to grab them later. And without further ado, they ran down the street, looking for a place quiet and secluded enough.

Flashing back in his memory, Danny remembered, vaguely, an old and abandoned park he had once found when he was new to the orphanage. Taking lead of the chase, he lead her to where his memory told him to go.

Eventually they rounded the park. It was quiet, secluded, deserted. A rusty swing set sat in the middle of the area, bathed in the shade the two weeping willows gave off. They hovered over the swing set kindly, giving off shade to those who would ever sit there. Danny gasped back his tears and dragged Sam under the weeping willow.

The area surrounded with brush, the two were sure no one would ever find them. Danny let a tear escape as he looked into Sam's beautifully purple eyes. She cried, too. He leaned over, kissed it away, and rested his forehead against hers as the two cried freely.

"I just found out I love you, and now I find out you're leaving in a month," she exclaimed miserably. "How fucking ironic is that? And on my birthday, too!"

Danny hugged her, trying to calm his tears. "I don't want to go live with Vlad!" he mumbled. "I want to stay here with you. But why with Vlad? Anyone, anyone, even a hobo on the street would have been better than him."

Sam shook her head. "I figured you'd at least be a little excited. I mean, he's the richest guy around. Your life will be good with him, won't it? And anyway…how do you know him?"

Danny flinched. The question, the question that would ultimately lead to his secret. How he dreaded it! He fought the trembling, the horrible shade of fear that overcame his mind as he sought a lie inside of his mind.

She nuzzled against him. "Please don't lie," she murmured. "I want to know the truth." She paused, and said, as quietly as she could, "and I want to know why you suddenly disappear, only to come back looking rather roughed up."

He gripped her tightly. "I don't know if you want to know the truth," he whispered. What would she do, knowing he haunted both worlds?


	7. It May not Hurt Youbut it Hurts Me

Ahaha a lot of the last comments made me giggle XD "As terrible as you are for writing that..." (I have nothing against the person who wrote that, actually I'm keeping that email because it made me laugh THAT hard).

I had to, okay, guys??? XXD It was my plan from the BEGINNING, get Danny adopted by Vlad.

Warning, in like...uhm...two-three chapters, the perspectives will change; Danny will be in first person, Sam will be in first person, and it will stay like that. :D Awesome right? XD Not really, but it does make it a helluva lot more personal.

ANYWAY. Disclaimers;

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

I am glad you guys are enjoying!! Thanks for reading up to this point!!**  
**

* * *

"I do want to know," she said confidently. Danny sighed.

"But the whole story?"

"I told you mine. You never told me yours. I think now is a good time to tell me."

He was trembling now, fearful of what she would do. "I will. Under one condition."

"Hmmm?"

"Kiss me, so at least if you hate me after this, I can remember a good kiss."

She wanted to fight back that she would never, could never hate him, no matter what he said, but bit her lip. She looked up, smiled sweetly, and pressed her lips against his.

He messaged her lips, desperate for more, desperate for something other than just a simple kiss. He pressed his tongue lightly against the bottom of her lip, and she allowed him entrance. An explosion of taste, of love and happiness. Their tongues danced together, light against one another, soft and gentle against one another. Danny loved her taste, and filed it away in his memory. She tasted like mint, and of course her own special and unique taste. She moaned into his mouth, biting his bottom lip and wrapping her arms around him tighter.

A quick dive for breath, then back at the kiss, leaning over one another, finally until Sam was pressed against the ground and Danny lay on top of her. She didn't care, though; the kiss was amazing, more than anything she ever could have imagined.

They must have kissed for eternity. Diving away, staring into each others eyes before stealing kisses from one another. But finally Danny sighed, hugged her, and dove into his story.

"My parents weren't what you would call right in the head," he said numbly. "They had an obsession that no one in my town could respect; and that obsession was ghosts."

He looked down to gage her reaction, but she didn't respond at all. Just stared up at him. He took a deep breath and continued.

"They were inventors as well; they came up with gadgets to kill ghosts, rip them apart, you name it. But they created one thing, a ghost portal, and in the beginning, it just wouldn't work properly. I was nine, just new to the age, and out of dumb curiosity I wandered in.

"I noticed that the off button was switched on, instead of the on button. So, being the dumb fuck I was, I pressed the on button." He gave out a short, hysterical laugh. "I passed out from pain. But when I woke up, I wasn't human. I was a ghost, fading in and out of reality, passing through the floor and firing random ectoplasmic rays everywhere. After a while, I figured out the way to change myself back into human. And I realized I wasn't human, but I wasn't a ghost either.

"I was some sort of cross." He looked down again, expecting disgust in her eyes. But he only saw concern.

"I hid my powers from my family and town, of course. I fought the ghosts that escaped the now working portal, and every time I went out ghost hunting, my parents tried to kill me. That is, until one day, randomly while I was at school and Jazz, my sister, was home sick, the portal exploded." Another sad, hysterical, hiccupy laugh.

"I didn't know; I couldn't help. But they died from ghost attacks. My ghost sense didn't go off, and I never knew until I came home to find my mother, father, and sister as mangled heaps of blood on the ground."

Tears fell from his eyes as Sam hugged him tightly and whispered soft and comforting words to him. "I could have saved them. But I was too busy being in detention…

"Vlad Masters, though, is a man that my mother and father used to be friends with. He was always trying to get me to live with him, but I always flat out refused. He used this mishap—and his wealth—to his advantage this time, however. He's a halfa—half ghost, half human—too, and for some reason feels insanely close to me for the reason that we're similar. He's wanted to be my father for the longest time, and he swore to me he would be my father." A bitter, harsh laugh. "Guess he was right, wasn't he?"


	8. Flying High

Since that chapter was some major filler, here's another chapter so you guys don't kill me! XXD;

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Enjoooyyy C**  
**

* * *

"Danny! Danny, please don't leave me." Sam let a hand rise upward towards him, feeble and wishing he would stay. "I don't care, Danny," she swore angrily. 

He looked at her, before his face twisted in rage. A flash of light around his middle, and suddenly he was no longer human. Sam bit back the gasp as she looked at him. His skin was pasty, pale, dead. Body clothed in a tight jumpsuit, an emblem resting on his chest. White gloves adorned his hands, white boots hid his feet. Hair a deeper shade of white than any snow fall she had ever seen, eyes so green it hurt her head just to look into them. "Think I was lying?" he asked quietly, his eyes flaring and glowing violently. His hands shook, a faint glow of green around them as well.

Sam jumped up, shaking her head furiously. "Danny, don't you see?" she cried in exasperation. "I don't give a fuck!" she screamed at him. The hot and sticky May air swam around them liltingly. "I don't care, you're still my Danny. Who the hell cares if you're part ghost? I don't!" A tear escaped her eye. "I always _knew _there was something more to death than your soul fading away. I always _knew _there was some sort of catch! Danny, you're a gift to the world. You idiot, how could you ever think I wouldn't trust you?"

He fought her fiery rage with his own. "Don't _you _see, Sam?" he screamed at her. "I'm fifteen, I'm friggin' _dead_, according to doctors! I have to hide when I get checkups, make people forget or think I already had one. My body temperature declares that I should be dead, or at least dying!"

Storming up to her, he gripped her, and with his inhuman strength lifted her up. She glared at him, not caring that her shirt was biting into her skin from the position he had her in. "I can lift you without a grunt. I can switch between human and ghost. Sam, I'm not a gift, I'm a curse! I'm the result of humans meddling where they shouldn't, and how do I get paid back!?" He snarled his next words. "Getting adopted by the other halfa in the world, the one who will try everything in his goddamn power to make me turn against my pledge to help humans against the will of ghosts!"

Danny shook her slightly. Sam grabbed onto his arms, growling, "Let go of me, now!" Danny dropped her, grabbing her quickly by the waist before she fell all the way and hurt herself. She gripped his arms and stared up into his face, her eyebrows knitted together and eyes glaring.

"I love you." She said it so simply, so calmly, it was all Danny could do not to shake her and hurt her.

"How can you love someone like me?" he asked, moments away from cursing her off to the heavens.

She rolled her eyes, literally growling with anger. "I. Love. You. Do I need to have a fucking reason!? I love you, I love you. I love your personality, your kindness, your calmness, your gentle aura, every little thing about you! I don't need a reason to love you, do I? Love makes no sense. Why did I fall for you?" She let out a sneer, and stood on her tip toes to peck him on the lips. "Because you're the person my heart chose, I guess."

Danny was torn between strangling her, laughing with relief, and crying with how much he loved her.

"Sam, I love you," he choked out finally.

She poked him hard in the stomach. "Uh, yeah, I figured as much."

He groaned, putting his own head on her shoulders, slumping over quite comically to do so. "What am I gonna do without you?" he asked, fighting not to tremble. "You made me be able to handle the deaths of my family. I still can't believe I lasted fourteen years without you."

She laughed. "It's because you didn't know I existed, duh!" Then, her face falling, she looked away from his face. "I can't believe you're going to be leaving on my birthday."

His own smile faltered. "I wish there was a way we could avoid me getting adopted. I'd say run away, but Vlad would find me immediately." He laughed bitterly. "He can sense ghosts and would be able to find me in a heart beat, thanks to my stupid distinctive trait of being both human and ghost."

Sighing, she shook her head. "Running away wouldn't have worked anyway. Where would we have gone?"

He shrugged. "My old house? Since the house actually belonged to my parents, I still own it. But it doesn't matter." He shrugged, pulling her head to look at him. He smiled at her, and she smiled back weakly. "Just don't forget me when I leave, okay?"

She snorted. "Like I could even if I wanted to!"

His face grew serious. "Sam, please, what ever you do, don't give up hope. I'm going to come back for you! I promise. I seriously, honest to gosh promise. I may not be able to be fully free from Vlad until I'm eighteen, but that's only in three years, right?" A lopsided smile. It was amazing, how they'd grown to be closer than anyone else in the orphanage in those four years together. The two were confident no amount of time could ruin their relationship.

"I'll wait," she told him, smiling. "But honestly, it will be so hard…"

He reached down, gripped her head, and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. "Just wait for me, okay? I promise I'll be back. And I promise I'll visit you." Acting on impulse, he picked her up. She squealed in indignation, but he clamped a hand on her mouth.

"Ever want to fly?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded meekly.

Slowly rising, she lost her breath in surprise. His hands were warm and strong against her stomach (she was wearing a shirt that rose slightly over her belly button, revealing cool stomach). She held onto them slightly, not even in strain from the hands against her stomach. It was comforting, not painful.

"How can you live on land after going through this every day?"

He gave a little shrug. "Because then I wouldn't be with you every day, dear."


	9. Just One More Night

o3o; I'm considering just uploading the next fifteen chapters .; I'm dyinnnggg. I'm lazy and stuff so it annoys me XXD Opinions, anyone? want me to just upload once-a-day-every-two/three-days like I have or just upload the whole lot of the chapters? XP

Erm...this chapter is...interesting...and...amusing...and...SCARY :B so be forewarned, to those who actually READ this damn thing, ha-ha-ha.

And let me just say this...MYCHEMICALROMANCEOWNSMYSOUL. Hahahaaaaaa...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!! **

Hope you guys like!

* * *

They reached the orphanage, and Danny quietly landed in the shaded place he had dubbed his landing spot. He changed back, still gripping Sam by the stomach, rubbing it slightly. His hands were soft and warm, making her sigh with happiness. Eventually the two climbed the steps of the orphanage, Danny having an arm wrapped protectively around her waist, Sam with her arm around his shoulders.

When they entered the orphanage, they realized it was already dinner. Both wincing, they quickly ran to the dining room, storming in and receiving stares from the many people. They just pulled closer together, grabbing a quick dinner—a bagel—and walking to the table that they had designated as their own so long ago.

Sam, not caring what anyone said, pecked him on the lips. He kissed her back, sighing when he pulled back. He bit into his bagel, not tasting it. He stared at her, fighting back tears at the thought of not being able to see her for three years. He swore to himself that he'd visit her every chance he got; he'd come every damn night if he had to.

He coughed, trying to just get the question out. "Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah, Danny?"

"Will you…sleep with me tonight?" He backtracked at the amusement on her face. "Not like that! I mean, it was nice last night…and…well…," he mumbled. "So we can at least be closer for this next month?"

Sam giggled. She couldn't help it; he just sounded so cute, so tentative, expecting rejection. "Er…," she laughed. "Okay." She said it quietly, trying to fight back her laughter. "Just…uhm…just sleeping, okay? Nothing else."

He laughed along with her. He moved out of his seat across from her, quickly jumping around the table and towards her. He slid on the bench to move closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulder and resting his head on top of her head. "You're a nerd," he laughed.

She smirked, ripping off a bit of bagel, finding his mouth, and shoving the bit into it. "So? _You're_ the one who likes me."

Bagel still in mouth, he gave out a choke of laughter. Swallowing down the bread, he said, "Yeah, I guess so." He picked his head off of her head and gently caressed her cheek with his hand. "I love you, Sam Manson," he sighed.

She gave out a "Mmmm," closing her eyes against his sweet touch. "Say that again, Danny?"

He snorted. "I love you, Sam Manson. I love you, I love you. You've accepted me, you've even stayed by my side after I told you I was going to leave you. I love you, and I think I keep loving you more and more as time goes by."

She opened an eye and grinned at him. "I think that applies for me, too."

They had three hours before it was bed time, and they spent the time up in Danny's room. Singing along to CD's (mainly My Chemical Romance, AFI, and other bands that sung of love), and hugging each other tightly. Finally Karin came into the room, nostrils flaring.

"Time for bed, Samantha," she gritted. Sam rolled her eyes to Danny, held up a finger, and walked out of the room. Once the door was firmly closed, Karin narrowed her eyes at Sam. "Sam. I saw you two today at dinner." Her jaw was tight. "I just wanted you to know that Danny has seriously ruined you over the next four years. I think his moving away will do both of you good."

Sam fought with herself not to punch Karin in the face. "But Danny and I are friends."

Karin sneered. "Seems like you two are more."

Sam rounded on Karin, glaring as she reached her room. "And what's it to _you_ if we are more than friends? Just because you can't land a guy doesn't mean that I shouldn't be able to." She opened her door and slammed it tightly, swearing darkly to herself.

Running to her wardrobe and pulling on a pair of black pajama pants and a pink tee shirt with a heart ripped in two dripping blood on it, she quickly thought of ways to make the bed look as if she were lying in it. She was thankful she always slept with the blanket over her head.

Ripping clothes off their hangers, she bundled them up and placed them so they appeared to be a body underneath the blanket. She snatched her round pillow, put it on top of the big one to look like her head, and tip-toed out of the room.

Quickly darting into Danny's room, she shut the door and made a face. "Karin's a bitch."

His face shone with mock innocence. "It took you this long to realize that?"

She swatted at him and laughed as she plopped herself down on his lap. "She says it'll be good for us to be apart."

Danny scowled. "Old hag." But Sam couldn't respond; Danny pressed his lips against hers. He gently worked his lips against hers, trying to remember the feel of them. They were soft and kind to him, working against his as well. He wrapped his arms around her, gently lifting up her shirt and touching her stomach. It was so smooth and soft…

She opened her mouth, forcing his to open, and let her tongue dance around his mouth. He did the same to her, wishing the moment would never end. A gasp for breath and then back to the kiss, Sam turning over mid kiss and pushing him down onto the bed so she could lean over him.

A moan escaped Danny's mouth as he felt himself wish more than ever that Sam and him were eighteen together. She gasped, realizing his arousal, and pulled away, collapsing on his chest in laughter. "You little pervert," she smirked. Deciding on impulse to give him another birthday present, she pulled her shirt shoulder down so that it was past her shoulder and showing off her bra.

His eyes grew wide and he placed his hands on top of his eyes. "You bitch," he gasped. She giggled, pulling his eyes away and sticking a finger under her bra strap.

She smirked. "You know you want it," she purred, slowly putting her shirt back in place. "But you don't get it. At least, not tonight." And with that, making Danny moan angrily, she pressed her lips against his momentarily before pulling away and cuddling next to him. He rolled his eyes, tried to calm himself down, and slid down under the covers with her. He didn't even want to think of what Karin would do if he saw the two of them sleeping in the same bed, curled around each other.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, gently stroking her hair. "You are my life, Sam…"


	10. One Month to Love

XD I'm sure soo many of you loved Sam's sluttiness in the last chapter.

FTW.

I've decided to update once a day...so...yeah...

-random- happy birthday Darren Shan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-another random for the MCR fans- Gerard Way is not engaged anymore. o3o; I dunno, he said it in an interview. SO YARLY.

Okay. Disclaimers!!**  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Aha. Enjoy.

* * *

Sunlight pressed against Sam's eyes through the blanket. She moaned, sat up and rubbed her head gently. The blanket fell off her head, landing in a heap on Danny's sleeping body. He was curled up, his legs in a position so that he would have been surrounding Sam. She reached down, fingered his lips, and slowly rose out of the bed. The clock declared it five thirty in the morning; the time she normally woke up.

Slowly exiting the room, she walked across the hallway to her own bedroom and ran to her own. Once safely inside, she began to undress and get into her clothes for the day. Over the four years she had acquired even more clothes than she had brought with her. At that moment she was tugging on a pair of black leggings, in which case she pulled a skirt that barely reached her finger tips over top of them. The skirt was black and fringy, made of denim. Next, she strangled herself into a tank top that barely reached her mid stomach, with purple lines going down and across the shirt. Thrusting random purple and black bracelets onto her wrists, she grabbed her basic black flats and slipped them on. Running to the bathroom that was adjoined into her room, she brushed her teeth, did everything else she needed to do, and began to put her makeup on. Purple eye shadow, followed by black eyeliner that spiraled away from her eyes. She quickly pulled her hair up and decided she was presentable.

Later, looking at the clock, she noticed it was six thirty. People would be waking up soon; she had to go back to his room immediately.

She quickly stepped around the hallway, and then back into his room. He was awake, waiting on the bed, fully clothed.

He smirked. "You look nice."

She grinned, rolling her eyes at him. It was then she realized she didn't have her bag; she hadn't even done her homework. Deciding not to care about the homework, she asked Danny about the bags. He pointed to the corner of the room, explaining he had forgotten to tell her about it the night before.

Laughing, she nodded. "Yeah, I figured as much."

The two sat on the bed, talking as they had always done. She marveled at how they always found things to talk about. Then, like a bolt of lightening, it crashed upon her.

In less than a months time, she would no longer have the luxury of talking to him.

In less than a month, he would be gone, with a rich man, no longer with him.

In less than a month, he would have to leave her.

Her throat constricted as a tear rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm going to miss you, Danny," she sobbed. He put his arm around her shoulder and tried not to cry himself. It was a random happening, but he surrendered himself to the fact that it would be happening much more often over the next month. To the both of them.


	11. Why is Goodbye Always so Hard?

So you guys don't kill me, here's another chapter...the chapter that you guys will hate me for. XXXD;

So here ya go!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Lol...enjoy and cry if you need to xP

* * *

They clung to each other. Stealing kisses from one another when ever they could, even in front of the orphanage. People pointed and stared, but no one dared to break them apart. They were in their own world, trying to remain together for that month. The entire month. Each night they slept in Danny's room, Sam curled and snuggled against Danny, Danny curled around Sam. Always pressing his face into her hair, kissing her lips when he thought she was asleep. She did the same; kissed him when she thought he was asleep.

But, all too soon, June twenty third rolled around. Sam awoke in Danny's arms, tears already stinging her eyes within the first two minutes of being awake. She turned to Danny, lightly shook him awake, and pressed her lips against his.

Tears flew freely from her eyes. "I can't believe your leaving," she trembled.

He shook his head, grabbing her face and pressing his lips harshly against hers. He pulled away, seriously sobbing. "I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave either!" she cried, sitting up and hugging him tightly. She pressed her head into his shoulder, trying to memorize his scent.

"Sam, I want you to have something of me to remember me by, okay?" She nodded sickly as he crawled out of the bed, took one of the many photographs of the two together, and cut it down the middle. He handed her the picture of him. It was the one that Danny had snapped of himself kissing her cheek, her laughing and flipping off the camera.

She smiled sickly down at the picture and hugged it as he ransacked his wardrobe. Finally he came back with a rather loose fitting tee shirt, throwing it to her.

"I love you," he whispered. She nodded, headed out of the room, and he followed. She went to her own room, ransacked her own wardrobe, and came back with a huge black tee shirt for him. Not caring either was in the room, they both slipped out of their pajama shirts and pulled on their new shirts they had given each other.

"I'm going to miss you," she croaked, tears still falling thick and fast from her eyes.

"I love you, you bitch," he choked out, laughing.

The two stood there, hugging each other, in one another's shirts, trying not to die of crying.

Both deciding it was time to exit the room, Sam loafed around as Danny packed up his things into a small suitcase. He, every so often, moved towards Sam and kissed her. He kissed away her tears, trying desperately not to cry himself but failing. She hugged him, nuzzling against his chest, trying to prevent him from packing. But he pulled away and finished, all too quickly.

Sam burst into fresh tears. Her stomach hurt, just thinking about the prospect of leaving him. Her heart felt heavy, sickly. She gasped for breath before lurching into his arms. The two stood there for the longest time, holding each other, both sobbing rather hysterically.

Until suddenly, Vlad Masters barged into the room.

A sneer became evident on his face almost immediately. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Danny broke away from her to glare up at Vlad. "Just because I'm moving in with you doesn't mean I like you," he snarled.

Vlad laughed and gave Sam a cunning and mischievous smile. "Who are you?"

"Sam Manson," she said tentatively, snatching Danny's hand nervously.

Vlad's grin broadened as he stared down at her. "Sam Manson, eh?" he asked. He leaned down so he was face level with Sam. "How…interesting."

Danny snarled at him. "Leave her alone, you lonely old man!"

Vlad straightened up and shot daggers at Danny. "Young Daniel," he sneered. "Is that how you talk to your _father_?"

"It's how I talk to you!"

Rolling his eyes, Vlad grabbed Danny's shoulders and thrust him away from Sam. Danny was dragged away from the room, down the stairs. Sam followed, tears stinging her eyes violently.

As the two walked out the doorway, Sam wrenched Danny's hand free from Vlad's and pulled Danny towards her. "I love you," she whispered, crying.

"I love you too!"

He kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss, the perfect goodbye kiss. Tears mingled with their lips, dampening their kiss, but neither of them caring.

They kissed for as long as they could; they just didn't want to stop. But they eventually pulled away for air, and Vlad seized the opportunity.

He dragged Danny away, a leer high on his features. He opened the door for Danny, bending low as if he were a servant. He was going to drive to his new home in a limo; Danny would have traded his left hand just to stay with Sam.

Finally Vlad pushed Danny into the car. Sam jumped down the steps, tears making his shirt stick to her skin. Danny gained dominance and rolled down the window. He stuck his head out as the car began to roll away.

"_I fucking love you_!" he screamed.

"_I fucking love you, too, Danny_!" she screamed back, sobbing, reaching out for him as he drove away from her life for ever.


	12. Father to Son

Rawr...this is where things veer from being in third person to being in first person...warning!!!

I like this chapter...kinda gives you insight to Danny later in the series. Soo...yesss..

Oh, I've noticed that a few people have been looking at my other stuff??? I suggest Fade Away...it's my favorite thing I've ever written. xD;

Anyway...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!! **

Yesssss...enjoy!

* * *

-Danny's POV-

I slammed my fist into the wall of the castle, only to pull it back and slam it into it again. Blood dripped from my knuckles; I didn't care. I loathed the green and red liquid spilling from my hands, I loathed it almost as much as I loathed Vlad.

The wall was stained with blood, the color rusty with a hinge of hunter green. Biting back a choked sob, I took my other hand and slammed it into the rocky wall. Might as well bloody that one up, too, if I was going to do the job properly.

Vlad came strolling along. He sneered at me, and it was all I could do not to grab his head and bash it into the wall. I wondered idly what would happen if I did. "Stop doing that or I'll have to take you to the hospital," he said coolly.

"Take me, then," I snapped. Using my less damaged hand, I flipped him off, not even wincing as the cool, refreshing pain lanced from my and to my brain. "See where it lands you—under questions and your own stupid tests!"

Vlad smirked. "Miss her already?"

I fought hard not to pale at him. I hated how he saw through human emotions as if they were clear, unstained glass; it was so friggin' annoying. Maybe it was because he had no human emotions, other than anger, revenge, and hatred.

Glaring openly, I nodded and slammed a fist into the wall. "You have no idea," I said bitterly. "What with _you're _emotionless heart, I hardly doubt that you haven't ever felt anything for anyone." Then a sly smile that hid my weeping inside. "All you've ever wanted was my mother, and she left you for a _bumbling idiot_, and then got killed because of him. Wow, you must really suck if a _moron_ won her affections."

He looked murderous; it was all I could do not to laugh harshly. "Your mother is dead," he hissed, "but that does not mean I still do not love her."

"You could never love!" I shouted at him, turning around and knowing my eyes were blazing green. "You're too much of a fucking ghost to have any room for love in that hole you call a heart!"

This time it was Vlad's turn to grin, eyes glinting rather evilly. "But, Daniel," he nearly cooed. "I'm afraid that applies to you, too."

I blanched; I couldn't help it. "I can love," I snarled.

Vlad shook his head, a really evil grin spreading across it. "Ah, you can pretend love. Lust is an emotion all humans, and ghosts, obtain." A flash of teeth, just slightly elongated for effect. "But ask any ghost and you will find that love is an unknown word to them."

He walked closer to me, and it was all I could do not to tremble. I hated him. He leaned down towards me, eye level, and whispered, "and you're half ghost. Love cannot fester in your heart; only hate can. Lust quickly turns into jealousy, and jealousy quickly turns into hate. Hate is the emotion that all ghosts revolve on."

My lips were dry. "I love her," I said, but heard how feeble my voice was. Wasn't this what I had feared—that I couldn't give Sam the love she deserved? I tried to remain true to my thoughts, but found that the harder I tried to believe my statement, the harder it was to believe it.

"Pretend all you want, Daniel," Vlad sneered. "But admit it to yourself." A slow, pale, bony finger reached out and poked my chest, where my heart should have been. "How can a heart that pumps no blood love?"


	13. Replacement is Impossible

Blahhhhh.

No comment...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

YAYA

* * *

-Sam's POV-

I threw myself upon my bed and sobbed. I had accidentally stumbled into Danny's room, already accustomed to returning to his room instead of my own, and was weakened by the utter blankness. None of his aura remained in there; posters were gone, no clothes sprawled around. It was all I could do to drag myself away from the room and into my own room.

Gagging, I pressed his shirt into my face (I had changed into a tank top so I could hold his shirt) and inhaled his scent. Musky, but not in a cologne or deodorant way; it was _his_ smell, _his_ unique scent. Tears leaked from my eyes as I thought that I would have to sleep alone again tonight.

It was funny, really, how one could form a habit in two days, but the shock of breaking it was immensely strong. I knew I would not get any sleep that night; no matter how tired I was from crying, I would stay up all night until the wells in my eyes were dried up and I had to search for a backup valve for my tears. I would hold his picture close to my chest (as I was doing then), and sob into his shirt.

"I miss you," I croaked thickly, before beginning another round of sobs. I had school tomorrow; how could I bear it? Being alone, knowing no one was waiting for me. Knowing that I was, truthfully, more alone than I ever was in my entire life. I had two days of being alone; then I met Danny. But now, I _knew_ he was out there somewhere, and the shock of not having him by me was just too much to bare.

Karin came into my room, uninvited. She sat down on my bed and watched me cry for a few moments. What the hell was she doing? Couldn't she see I wanted to be _alone_?

"Sam," she said softly. "I think you should forget him. It's always sad to see a friend go, but it's been a day. He left yesterday morning; you spent the entire afternoon, all through until nine o'clock, sobbing outside, gripping his shirt. And then you haven't even left your room at all today! Sam, honestly. He was just one person…it wasn't as if you two were in love, or anything…"

I tried not to laugh. Yeah, it's _so totally _not called love when you feel as if you gave your heart to someone.

I felt my stomach clench, unbearable pain in my lower abdomen, and my heart flare on fire. "I miss him," I whispered. "So, so much."

Karin's gaze filtered through my bleak wall of self pity. It was a glare of confusion, wondering how I could have been so close to a kid she thought so bad. I was about to shake her and scream at him that I actually did love him and she wasn't aloud to think such bad thoughts about him when she stood up.

"Sam." Her voice was gentle. "I know how you feel; losing a friend is never easy. But please…try to make a friend tomorrow, okay?" She sounded almost worried. "I don't need you breaking down on me." And then she left.

_She _didn't need _me _breaking down on _her_?

Yeah. What a laugh.

---

The next day, at recess, I had my head on the table and my arms splayed out in front of them. I was just sitting there, fighting back tears, not wanting to cry in front of my classmates. Didn't need any more people thinking I was suicidal.

Randomly, a kid I had seen but never talked to sat down next to me. "You okay, Sam?" he asked. I puzzled briefly over the fact that he knew my name. But it didn't matter; nothing mattered, now that Danny was gone.

Danny…

Danny…

Danny…

I missed him. I missed him so much.

I raised my head and looked at the kid. I had seen a glimpse of him from the holes in the table; dark skin, baggy green shorts. That was it. But as I looked up, I saw the red beanie on his head, the concerned look in his large, chocolate eyes. Why did he care? He didn't even know me.

He had a PDA in one of his clenched hands. I had my head barely up, just grazing over the top of the table. "No, I'm not okay," I sighed, searching my brain for his name. I might as well be courteous to him, since he was the first person to talk to me and not goad me or tease me.

"What's wrong?" he asked kindly.

I sighed. I didn't feel like telling him; but it sort of spilled out. "My best friend was just adopted from the orphanage the two of us lived in. But…dude, I loved him!" Tears betrayed me and spilled from my eyes. "I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And it's so hard being without him."

The kid but his arm sympathetically around me. It felt nice, having a hand around me again.

But it certainly wasn't as nice as Danny's.


	14. Get on With Life

Blahblahblah

Yeahhh XD

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Yesssiry

* * *

-Danny's POV-

School? It was unbearable before, but now, without the prospect of seeing Sam's face afterwards, it was just a living hell.

I trudged through it, alone, new. What was wrong with me? Why were people staring so strangely? Was it my bloodshot eyes, my crumpled hair, the black shirt I was wearing that was so obviously a girl's?

I stuck my head into it and tried not to just break down. I missed her so much.

Finally school ended, and I trudged back to Vlad's mansion. He was away in his study; I didn't care. I crawled to my room, seeking solace in the picture of Sam sticking her middle finger at me.

I missed how she was so vulgar, how she was so open with me. I missed her kisses, her hugs, the feel of her stomach beneath my fingers.

Sitting down on the bed (I refused to call it my bed), I idly did my homework, not even thinking about it, just going through the motions. When I was finished, I just leaned down, lying on my back—

—and cried.

-Sam's POV-

His name was Tucker.

He was nice enough, but no Danny. He was concerned about me, I could tell that much. He was making me laugh weakly, too. At one point he said, laughing, "warning: falling in love can cause stomach cramps, headaches, relentless crying, and the inability to stop reading sad romantic books and short stories."

I nodded in acceptance at what he said. How freaking true!

By the time the day was over, we had exchanged phone numbers. He did that stupid phone thing to his ear, waving it around slightly and mouthing "call me!" as he headed towards his bus. I laughed at him, feeling a little better, but also still very depressed.

Walking home, I quietly headed to my room and fought against tears. I didn't want to sound tearful if Tucker called; and sure enough, over the intercom, Karin told me I had a phone call.

Trudging down the stairs, I picked up the phone.

"Tuck?"

"Hi!" he called out. "Feel any better, Sammy?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Uh, not really."

"Aw!" I could tell from his voice that he was seriously upset by the news. Knowing someone cared was kind of nice.

"I need to find a way to cheer you up," he swore to me. I bit back a laugh; me and cheering up just didn't sound like they would mix. But he invited me to a movie. I asked Karin and she said I could go, handed me the nine dollars admission, and told me to be back by six.

We chose a comedy, of course. He told me the time, and we both hung up.

I was going to a movie. I wondered if I would laugh at all during it.

Unfortunately, a memory floated into my mind, causing tears to bite at my eyes.

_Danny and I were ten and twelve. He had gotten fifty dollars for his birthday, and he waved it around. "Let's go see a movie," he laughed, and I had agreed._

_It was a romantic movie. It was the first movie I had seen in a theater for four years, so it was sort of special to me. At one point, when the romantic tension was very thick, Danny leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips._

_I had made a face. "What was that for?" I asked, not really knowing why my heart was beating wildly in my chest._

_He shrugged, grinning, and bent down to peck my lips again. "I wanted to see what it was like," he said._

My first kiss…and I was sharing the moment over, in a different environment, with a different person.

No, I wouldn't laugh. But I was confident I would cry.


	15. Memories can Consume

Huzzah!

In apologies for not writing long chapters.

Ten more chapters to go!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

BLAH.

* * *

-Danny's POV-

Finally, a night when Vlad wasn't watching me like a hawk. I snuck out of the house, dipping and diving. It would take me about an hour to reach the orphanage; but I'd do anything at that point to see Sam. Every minute without her was like a hole being ripped in my heart, eating away at my insides like sulfuric acid.

After the mind numbing hour of cold, icy wind blasting against my body, I reached the orphanage. A smile slid on my lips as I recalled her window, looking around tentatively. When no one was around, I slowly landed on her window sill and looked inside.

She was lying on the bed, shoulders shaking. I bit my lip, feeling horrid for leaving her. How could I? Leave my Sammy…

I put my hand on the window and rasped gently. She lifted her head slightly, then slowly lowered it, crying again. Screwing up my face in concentration not to cry at the sight of her crying—_no one made my baby cry, and seeing her cry from me was the worst—_made me want to hurt myself. I slammed my fist against the window with force, literally making her jump.

She turned towards the window reluctantly, only to see me. A flit of shock across her face, then more tears, but through smiles. She literally flew to the window, opened it, and snatched me around the waist.

"Get over here," she growled, somehow picking me up and dropping me to the ground and beside her. I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her hair. Oh my God…she smelled better than my memory gave credit…

"I missed you," I murmured into her hair. She gripped my shirt tightly and bit back her tears.

"I don't know how I've been able to function without you," she laughed sickly. "Just being back in your arms is bringing back how difficult it was to function this past week."

I let out a snort of laughter. "I've been thinking the same thing." We stood like that for the longest time; hugging, laughing randomly, crying randomly. Eventually, as I watched her just nuzzle into my chest; I noticed the huge black bags under her eyes.

"…how much sleep have you been getting…?" I asked, picking her head up and looking directly into her bloodshot, tear stained eyes. She looked sheepish.

"Not very much," she admitted, obviously trying to look away but failing in the attempt. I sighed, picked her up (much to some awkward squawking) and sat on the bed with her in my arms. I pressed her head against my chest, lightly stroking her hair. Quickly I picked her chin up, pecked her on the lips, and placed it back in its original position.

"Is this any better?" I whispered. She gave out an "Mmmmm," of acceptance, her eyes closing. I smiled down at her, not caring I was still in my ghost form, and began to hum softly to her. It was one of our favorite songs; _The Missing Frame_ by AFI.

"I can hear your heart beat," she sighed, nuzzling into my chest, her lips barely moving. I laughed, placed my hand on her head, and continued to hum.

She was drowsy, but she managed to ask me to sing it after a few moments of humming. I rolled my eyes, gave a grunt of "oh, if I must to get you to friggin' sleep!" and began to sing to the tune dancing inside of my head.

"_I'll let you tear it up, if you don't wake me up. But if you tear it, we can repair it, so please don't wake me, 'till someone cares. Now no one cares. Will the flood behind me, put out the fire inside me? Will the flood behind me, put out the fire inside me?_"

I looked down again; she was asleep. I held her for a while, humming to the song, randomly singing out the words softly. Eventually dawn threatened to break, and I had to put the sleeping Sam down on the bed. I did so sadly, hugging her tightly. As I placed her down, I pressed my lips against hers, gently moving upwards until my lips were against her forehead. A smile crept on her lips as I pulled away. She curled up slightly, as if she were sleeping beside me. "I love you, Danny," she mumbled in her sleep.

I stifled back a flow of tears. "I love you too, Sammy," I informed her as I stepped out of the window and shut it.


	16. Withdrawal

Because I fucking felt like it. XD

Friday, I'm in Love by the Cure makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

ENDPLZ**  
**

* * *

-Sam's POV-

I awoke with a start, moaning in despair at the lack of body heat next to me. I missed him…

I gasped when I remembered I had school. I jumped out of bed, falling onto the ground, and groped for my alarm clock.

"Fuck!" I shouted, scrambling around. Six thirty! School started in an hour! I jumped from the floor, knowing that I wouldn't have enough time to get all fancy _and _make the thirty-minute walk to school. I groaned, rubbing at my eyes, throwing on a pair of sweats and the shirt Danny had given me. I ran to the bathroom, ran a brush through the lump of hair that was perched on top of my head, and gave up taming it. I snapped one of the hair scrunchies off of my wrist and pulled my hair into a small pony tail at the nape of my neck.

Dashing from the bathroom after brushing my teeth and doing other necessities, I checked the clock. Six fifty two; I had just enough time to run down the steps, scarf a bagel, and head towards school.

I grabbed my bag, not double checking to make sure I had everything, and snapped my iPod to my belt. Sticking the headphones up over my ears, I rubbed angrily at my eyes once again to get the sleep out of them.

Then, dashing out of the room, I stumbled down the steps. One foot plummeted in front of the other, twisting around one another and my messenger bag. My foot smashed through my headphone's cords, causing me to trip even more than I already was. "Ahh," I moaned, finally on the bottom landing and leaning against the wall to steady myself.

This, very obviously, wasn't going to be a day in favor of Sam.

Grabbing the bagel I had promised myself, I jetted from the building and down the sidewalk. It was rather cool. I wrapped my arms around myself, mouthing the words to _The Missing Frame_ rather sadly. I still couldn't believe I had fallen asleep to him singing; he had a surprisingly gentle voice…

I tried to fight the oncoming wash of tears. God. Damn. It! Did he have to leave me again? I sighed, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, burying my nose into his shirt. It was really difficult without him; I could hardly breathe, let alone function.

-Danny's POV-

I smashed my fist into Vlad's stupid face. "I hate you," I hissed at him. He laughed.

"Hate, didn't we have this discussion?" he sneered. He blocked my next fist effortlessly, not even burdened with my last one. "Soon enough, you'll be like me." He whipped around, taking me by surprise, and kicked me hard in the stomach.

I fell back with a very painful "oof!" and landed on my back. I winced, rubbing my stomach with a hand as I glared venomously up at Vlad. He stood above me, smirking broadly. Of course he was stealing money; his goonies had done a lot of the dirty work for him but he had been there, just so he could fight me.

I reached for the bags of money, trying to take him by surprise, but he pulled them from my reach. He laughed viciously. "_Son_, I must ask you not to interfere with my life." A sly smile. "Because I am positive that soon, you will be joining me." And as he spun on his heel, he clicked out of sight. I bounded up, shaking my fist at the air, ready to roar at it—

—fearful that what he said was true.


	17. Just a Pick Me Up

Thanks for the reviews. :D

Someone gave me a smiley in their review. THAT MADE ME GO SMILEY. Because I love smileys. XXXD It's quite obvious.

Anyway. Yeah.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Lalalaa! PS - this wasn't intended to be a fluffy moment between Tuck and Sam, it was like a pick-me-up. Like my best guy friend and I dance a lot even though we both have no interest in one another. So...this is like that XD

* * *

-Sam's POV-

Tucker prattled about the movie.

"DID YOU SEE THAT? IT WAS SO FUNNY! WHEN THE SCREAM IMPERSONATOR CAME OUT, I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD—hey, Sam, you okay?"

I looked up, startled, and gave him a shaky grin. "As good as I've been since we started talking," I told him with a slight sigh. He frowned, putting an arm around me.

"Cheer up, Sammy!" he exclaimed. I winced at the use of Danny's old nickname for me. He didn't notice my discomfort, however; he just proceeded to grab my hands, causing me to lurch forward with a squeal, and randomly start to dance with me.

"What the hell are you doing!?" I yelped. We were outside, at recess, and people were staring at us with cool dislike. We were both probably the most unpopular kids in the school.

"Dancing!" he laughed. He made me dip and almost dropped me, but caught me in time to thump me in the back and spring me back up to a standing position.

I tried to grumble in protest, but had to admit to myself it was kind of fun. "What are we dancing to?" I asked him. He thought for a moment, latching his fingers through mine and waving my body around frantically. Dipping me, his lips pursed, he started to sing with a crackly voice that was horrible on purpose.

"_We are all still the same, dear. I have owned this life forever; I will always remain._"

I stared at him in horror. "Why on earth are you singing _Stiff Kittens_!?" I asked him, fighting the urge to break out in laughter. That song was no song to slow dance to! I had to admit, though, his crappy voice and the song he chose brought a smile to my face.

He shrugged. "I felt like singing it," he said, spinning me around and twisting my hand.

"_If you show me heaven, I will meet you there_," he screamed, out of tune completely with the song. I marveled for a moment that he knew the song—Blaqk Audio, one Danny's and I's favorite bands, ironically—but ignored it. I assumed anyone who liked rock would know the band by now.

"_How it breaks their hearts that we've made an art, of desecrating our sanctuaries_," I sang along with him, actually trying to sing. After a moment's hesitation, I noticed that he wanted me to sing; so I did. "_We're one and the same, dear, you were born for this. Forever forget your restraint._"

A dip, a twirl, and people staring and jeering at us.

"Technogeek and Goth girl are hitting it on!"

"What a slut, moving from that other nerd so quickly!"

"No wonder her parents put her up for adoption—she's friggin' bipolar!"

I ignored the jeers and, surprisingly, enjoyed Tuck and I's strange moment together. It was fun, in a weird, out of the ordinary way.

"_Remnants of a past here pass like light through dust as memories fall like fleeting pain_," we sang together, me dipping him and him coming back with a twirl for me.

Finally, we stepped away from each other, getting ready to scream the last line at each other; "_HOW IT BREAKS THEIR HEARTS, THAT WE MADE AN ART, OF DESECRATING OUR SANCTUARIES_!" we hollered, and both broke out in giggles.

People stared. "Go get a room!" some prep hollered, and the crowd dissolved in laughter. But Tucker and I didn't care; it really was awesome, just being able to have a somewhat happy moment. It was nice to smile, even though it hurt somewhat to move my mouth in that way when Danny wasn't around. Sure, he could still visit me randomly at night when he was aloud, but honestly. I wasn't going to deceive myself;

How long did I honestly think he'd care enough to keep coming?


	18. Unwanted Truth

Blah wanted to get chapter eighteen out of the way.

Yess.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Pie! Oh, and please don't kill me for this. -.-

* * *

-Danny's POV-

The months inched by, until it was my sixteenth birthday. I had visited Sam like hell during the first few months of being away from her. But after a while, a lot of things had gotten to me.

Like, how Vlad beat me every day for being "the good guy." And you know, the worst part of it was…

I believed him.

What was the point?

Fighting against the ghosts, never winning, just beating them to a pulp, releasing them to the ghost zone again, only to have them escape and come attack me again…

Seriously, what was the _point_? It was all so stupid. Why had I subjected myself to it? Fighting an endless battle…to what, exactly? Make myself feel better about the fact that I had, literally, no "beating" heart?

I sat down on my bed, looking out the window, my heart a jagged hole in my chest. Its maw was red with blood, stained crimson with the many times it had been ripped open over the past year. I missed her…I missed her…

And somehow, I doubted that if she knew the thoughts I was thinking at that moment, she would approve. I was almost positive she'd turn away from me in disgust, murmuring words of disapproval and anger at me. "I had faith in you, Danny," she'd scowl as she stormed away from me.

I didn't need that.

I rejected the thought of visiting her that night. It was impossible to face her when I was feeling like this; I just couldn't do it. Because there was a small part of me, that was growing slightly more everyday, that called out to me that love was stupid. That I shouldn't feel it; that it would only get into the way as I lived life. That if I let love consume even a morsel of my being, I'd be some poor, defenseless fool that couldn't handle his own emotions. I made a face of revulsion and turned my face into my pillow.

Her shirt still smelled like her, somehow: I knew it was physically impossible, but it smelled like her. Oh, God, I missed her…

But I couldn't go visit her. No! I couldn't. I just couldn't. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I went to visit her. Seeing her face, seeing her eyes alight with sadness that still burned for me, and knowing that a part of me wanted to kill the love?

Uh, yeah. I couldn't handle her at that moment.

Vlad came in, despite the late hour. He smirked at my disheveled state, sat down on the bed with a moaning creak, and stared at me intensely.

"Thinking?" he whispered.

I turned my head slightly and shot him a glare. I ran my fingers through my thick onyx hair, let out an exasperated gasp of breath, and gave a short nod. "Yeah."

A moment of silence, in which case he stared at me and I stared away. Then, a hand on my hand. I looked over at him, startled out of my hate momentarily.

"I know how hard it is to be half ghost." A short pause, then he began talking again. "If you're thinking…that you can't handle what you are anymore…come see me." The smallest of smiles. "I can help you."

He stood up to leave. "Vlad, wait," I called out, as his hand was on the doorknob.

He turned around, puzzled. "What is it, Daniel?"

I furrowed my eyebrows together. "Why do you care?"

Resting against the door, he placed his palm against the cold metal of the doorknob. "Because, Daniel, I went through the same thing. A stage of denial, a stage of trying to be something your not. Then, of course, the stage of accepting what you are, and accepting that you are, indeed, a ghost."

"But I'm half human, too," I said weakly. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

Vlad pursed his lips, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small photo. "I carry this around with me for personal reasons. Look at it."

I did. It was a picture of a molecular structure, stained an ectoplasmic green about halfway down, stained red the other half. I looked at it and then looked up again. "DNA?"

"Look at it carefully," he instructed. So I did.

The green was more dominated than the red, I noticed that pretty quickly. Not by much; maybe the ratio was 60 to 40. But it was more, definitely more.

I handed the picture back to him and hung my head slightly. "What does this have to do with me?"

A bitter smile arose from Vlad's lips. "I took the DNA from your hair when you were in your human mode; you see, it's not _my _DNA…it's yours. And it's quite obvious that the green section—representing your ghost half—dominates the red section."

I looked up, but he was gone.


	19. Just Don't Give Up

YAYY chapter nineteen.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

LOL'ED.

* * *

-Danny's POV-

My birthday came and went unnoticed. I hadn't visited Sam at all; I wondered feebly how she was doing, but didn't dare to visit her.

Ghosts taunted me from my window daily; I ignored them, turning my back, letting them wreak their havoc. They did what they wanted once they realized I wasn't gonna fight them.

I sure as hell didn't stop them.

Vlad watched me closely for quite a while, eyeing me strangely. I figured he probably expected me to blow up at any given moment.

I kinda thought I was going to, too.

-Sam's POV-

Over the year, I was positive I had gotten a grand total of about 1,000 hours of sleep. Out of 8,766 hours, I had gotten an eighth of it.

Every night I'd lie in bed, waiting for Danny, watching with sadness as his visits became less frequent. He once visited every night; slowly that dwindled to every week; every month…not at all. But still, I stayed up, hoping he'd visit. I still cried every night; it was the only way I could get an hour, a blink, a glimpse of sleep as the night turned to day. Tire myself out from tears. I had hoped the pain would have dwindled…but it was ever strong, a beast gripping my heart tightly. Holding on tight, its claws ripping shreds into the precious tissue of my heart. Holding on…gripping tighter…squeezing…until there was no way I could ever breathe properly again.

The beast was ferocious, a beast borne of tears. A beast covered in wet, salty liquid, dripping it along his destructive path as he wandered my chest cavity, the place where my heart had once lain swollen, but now lay shriveled.

I let out a desperate sigh, tracing patterns on my arm, wearing his shirt. I wish he'd come and visit. I missed his arms gripping me, the feel of his kisses warm on my lips. I missed everything about him. The comfort I felt while he gripped me, the gentle caress of his lips against my own, the feel of his strong yet surprisingly soft hands against my stomach.

A smile flitted to my face as I remembered the first time he had kissed me; had seriously kissed me, not that silly peck on the lips he had given me at the movie theater ages ago. I had expected his lips to be hard as stone, for some strange reason. But they weren't; they were soft, squishy, inviting…like a pillow. I wanted to feel them again…it had been so long…too long…

I jolted as my personal phone rang (a Christmas present). I snatched it before it could wake anyone up and shoved my head and the phone under the pillow and covers. "Tuck?" I hissed into the phone.

He yawned, the noise very vacant. He was doing well with the whole "I'm fourteen, fuck off" thing. "Hey, Sam," he said into the receiver. "I'm bored, and I knew you'd be awake."

I snorted. "Yeah, because I get like, an hour of sleep a night, and it shows all over my face?"

He laughed. "Yeah, sort of."

We talked for quite a while. He had called at midnight, and by the time he hung up, the yawn very audible in his voice, it was four AM. I hoped he was able to get some shut eye; I knew I wouldn't be able to.

Hanging the phone up, I put my arms behind my head and stared up at the ceiling.

A small part of me wondered about that strange fact of Danny. That he was part ghost. I had always known that there was more to the world than "this is what we see; this is what there is." But I had never expected myself to fall in love with one of those outside things…and if there were ghosts, what else was there?

Did Danny die? Is that why he disappeared so suddenly? Did something happen to him, or did he just hate me for no reason? I bit my lip, tears slowly coming forth from my tear ducts, and rolled over so my face was in my pillow.

I moaned darkly. "Danny, you suck, but I love you," I mumbled into it, picking myself up feebly as if I were doing a push up. I sneered down at my pillow, my lips contorting and becoming something vile and bitter.

"What ever happened to never leaving me?" I asked quietly, I asked thickly through my tears. "You told me…you'd never leave…why did you leave me?"

I sighed, letting my weight drop down on the bed, and controlled the tears for the first time in that horrible year.

"You're not worth my tears," I said vituperatively, startled almost immediately. Of course he was; he was _Danny_, my _Danny_, the one who loved me, cared for me, was the single light in my world…

The light that was slowly blinking off as time went on.


	20. Argue All You Want, But it Won't Help

Hardy har har.

Five more chapters!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Yesss. PS - Ms. Kuhn was my Reading/writing teacher from the past year ;D

* * *

-Danny's POV-

Bitterness arose in my mouth as I raised my hand to challenge the teacher. "But, Ms. Kuhn," I said sarcastically. "Why does the good guy _always _get the girl, the bad guy _always_ lose? In real life, it's so often the other way around. The good guy gets the short end of the stick, when the bad guy is lavished with riches, women, or other things that they desire. The good guy is the scapegoat; the bad guy loved above all others. As his reward for doing bad deeds, he earns a pat on the back and a sack of gold; as a reward for doing good deeds, he earns a kick to the head and a wound to his pride, along with a fistful of flies."

Silence, before she blinked at me and scrunched her face up in confusion. Her emotions were displayed upon her shoulder as if she were shouting them to the world; it was so easy to see what she was thinking. She was thinking, _what's wrong with Danny Fenton? He's normally quiet and dumb. Why is he answering my question_?

"Does anyone have an answer to Mr. Fenton's question?" she asked after a few moments. When no one raised their hands, I did.

Ms. Kuhn stared at me strangely. "It's because of a simple fact," I answered myself, my voice still as acidic as it had been before. "Because humans try to create a world for themselves in which the good guy wins and the bad guy looses. Writers aren't anything but defenseless, shameful people disgusted with the human race. They merely create a world for themselves in which they can hide in, a world in which the sky is painted vibrant blues and the sun a mass of yellow that you can look at. When, in reality, the sky is a dark endless mass of space; stretching out until it makes you dizzy. When, in reality, if you look at the sun too long, the light burns your eyes and causes you to go blind.

"Writers have a way with creating their own world which captivates other people." I fell into a short silence, before starting up again, cruelty awash in my voice, unable to stop when it was needed. "Because, in reality, writers are unstable. They can't handle that humans are humans; they accept the big, strong, rich bad guy over the poor, disheveled, young good guy. And soon enough, before their very eyes, the good guy becomes a bad guy." I clapped my hands sarcastically. "The end! Good guys are just men in denial, who refuse to accept their fate. Like writers, and readers, and dreamers."

I looked around the room, looked at the mouths that were semi dropped open in surprise at my outburst. But I wasn't done. "The thing is," I said slowly, "We're _all _dreamers. We're _all _readers. We're _all _writers. We're one of the three. All of us. We all fall under the category of 'naïve child' when it comes down to the final act. In books like these," I said, holding up the book we were reading, "we get to pretend momentarily that the world is different. We get to _pretend_ that good overcomes evil; that evil will never prevail. We get to pretend that as we step across the sidewalk, if we accidentally step on a crack, our mothers back's will remain unbroken." My voice fell into a whisper. "But you know? If you're not careful, you're mother's back _will _break. If you're not careful, evil will take hold of you and grip you with its iron fist. And once it gets it's tight, metallic fingers around you, there's no breaking free. No escape. All you can do is sit and cry as you watch your dreams, your writing, your reading fantasy world crumble around you. All you can do is accept the big, bad, terrible truth that we as a whole race seem to disguise. And that truth is that as long as humans remain the way they are—and they show no sign of giving up their selfish ways any time soon—evil will always prevail."

A rare twitch of a smile from Ms. Kuhn. "Thank you, Danny," she said. "Does anyone want to fight Mr. Fenton's statement?"

I looked around, relishing the chance to attack someone in a debate. I loved debating when I was in this type of mood; A.K.A. Mr. Bitch.

No one raised their hands, but a lot looked at me as if what I had said made a lot of sense. Just then, the bell rang. Ms. Kuhn asked me to stay. I rolled my eyes, grinded my teeth against one another, and waited as everyone in the class left.

When it was just me and her, I walked towards her.

"What's wrong?" I asked rather wearily.

"I want to thank you for that speech you gave," she said. "It made a lot of people think; I could see it. Heck, you even made me think." She laughed, as if that was something to be proud of. "I just wanted to thank you for taking charge."

"You're welcomed," I said, sort of uncomfortable. I wanted to just leave; I was planning on skipping the rest of the day. Oh, what a good student I was.

She finally dismissed me, and I darted from the school in a rush, walking back to Vlad's castle.


	21. Goin' on an Adventure

Thanks for all the reviews - again! I swear, you guys just bring huge smiles to my face.

Four more chapters to go...that kind of makes me feel sad o.o;

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

Enjoy:D

* * *

-Sam's POV-

Tucker gave me a patronizing stare. "Just find him!" he nearly shouted.

"What?" I said, startled.

"_Him_!" he said angrily, taking his hat off and running his long and bony fingers through his fuzzy black hair. "That kid," he said with a wave of his hand. "Danny? The kid you told me about way back when on one of the last days of school? When we first became friends?"

I blinked. _He remembered me talking about Danny all the way back then_? A part of me glowed with happiness that someone really did care about me. Another part thought it was creepy.

"How do you remember that?" I asked, astonished.

A short grin, then a chortle. "I remember everything my friends tell me," he said. And then he gave me a sad smile.

"I know how hard it is to lose a friend," he said softly. "It's the hardest thing; knowing the friendship is gone and having to deal with it." He came closer, poked my forever-tear stained cheeks. "I see the tracks tears have made across your face. I see the bloodshot look in your eyes, how it's always there. The dark circles under your eyes. You _loved _him, Sam. And true love doesn't fade away. I've seen you throw up from your love; I've seen you fall to the ground and sob hysterically. You may have never talked about him, but I was always there with a comforting hand, wasn't I?"

I nodded thickly, about to cry in front of everyone at school. "I don't want to see you in this much of a wreck. A lost father, mother…but _never _a lost lover."

"Why do you care so much?" I whispered, my voice like honey oozing from the bottle.

"I hate seeing people I care about in distress," he said simply. Then a wicked flash of a smile—a mischievous grin—and a grab of my hand.

"I've got a plan, but you might find it a bit odd."

"Lay it on me," I said wearily.

"Who adopted Danny?"

"Vlad Masters."

A grin spread across his face. "Excellent! He's the easiest person to find whereabouts on in the world! Okay. So here's the plan. My dad? Well, he owns this huge truck. He taught me how to drive it ages ago.

"Well, you've never met my dad, but I am the spitting image of him." A flash of a grin, white teeth glinting. "We look pretty much the same, except my face is a bit chubbier. But honestly…would that show on a driver's license that we edited slightly so that the age declared me nineteen instead of fourteen?"

A sparkle lit my eyes at the chance of making a ruckus. "Are you saying…we're gonna drive to Wisconsin!?" I asked incredulously.

Out of Tuck's pocket came a thin card—a driver's license. He flashed it to me, his grin growing wide. "Tucker Foley, age nineteen, birthday February Fifth," he recited. The date that he would have been born on if he were nineteen. His correct height. A slightly younger version of his dad that really did look identical to Tucker.

"Let's go find that damn kid," he laughed.

I hugged him tightly, trying to fight back squeals. "Danny, here I come!" I whooped, earlier wonderings if he was still the Danny I knew and loved forgotten. I was going to get my Danny back…_my_ Danny…

I choked back a laugh, thinking of a quote I had once heard before. _Even if you rip my heart out and slam it on the ground, I'll pick it up, dust it off, and hand it right back to you._ I snorted outwardly, earning a strange look from Tucker but not caring. It was ironic how that matched so perfectly with the way I felt at that moment.

Danny, Danny, Danny…


	22. Youth has Nothing to Do with This

They're baaaddd.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; don't own the Used; don't own Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

:D

* * *

-Sam's POV-

Tuck didn't even look a bit nervous. "Do we have five hundred in cash?" he asked. I opened the wallet; there it all was.

"My credit card?"

"Yup to both," I answered, flipping out the credit card.

"License?"

A smirk passed between the two of us. "You bet."

"Okay," he said, eyes rolling to the top of the truck and counting idly inside of his head. "We put away three hundred for gas, just to be careful. But this truck gets loads to the gallon; thirty will fill it just fine and it will run for a while. Two hundred for snacks, minus the snacks in the back," he said as he thumbed his finger to the bags of food in the back. It was about a two day drive from here to Madison; but we were prepared. His parents were away on business for two weeks. I told the orphanage I was spending time with a friend for a week.

Everything was perfect, with a purr for effect.

"Credit card for if we get in a jam," I said. "License for if we get pulled over."

"Clothes to, well, yeah."

"Blankets for when we pull over to sleep."

Another shared smirk, and then Tucker squared his shoulders. "I love being six foot already," he said sarcastically, and started up the car.

I laughed. "You sure you know how to drive this hunk of metal?"

"Do you want to find Danny or not!?"

"No shit I wanna find him!" I yelped. He sneered, and pulled out of his driveway. He choked on laughter, obviously letting nerves touch his mind slightly.

I popped a CD I had made at the library into the CD drive and turned the volume up. My Chemical Romance crooned at us, the beats enough to make us stay awake. We had slept the entire day (we got away with that by calling the school, making our voices more mature, and telling them that we were sick for the day before doubling back to Tucker's house), so we were pretty wired anyway. But as MCR slammed their instruments and vocal cords to _I'm Not Okay_, and the two of us sang along, it was enough to make us stay pretty conscious.

I gulped slightly as _The Missing Frame_ came on, remembering when Danny had held me and sang me to sleep. But I was comforted by the fact that he'd be able to do that to me again; very, very soon. I smiled to myself and sang along with Tucker, barely noticing as more music whizzed by.

The CD ended; I reached into my backpack and splayed all the CD's I owned out on my lap. "Do you want to listen to a mixed CD, or a band CD?"

"Let's listen to Linkin Park," Tucker said, eyes on the road.

"I've only got Meteora and Minutes to Midnight."

He turned his head slightly to poke Meteora. "Play that one," he instructed. I did so. He sang along, keeping his eyes fixed on the road, glasses slowly sliding down his nose. I laughed, singing along as well, and looked at the clock. We had left at eight; it was two AM already. We'd have to pull over soon so we could at least be on a somewhat regular sleeping pattern.

A sign appeared that said we were still a whiles away from Madison. Tucker said it was probably a twenty four hour drive from there. I shuddered. I wondered how he could concentrate so well! I would have been shaking just from driving, let alone the scrap of a thing he called a truck. It was pretty roomy, though.

I leaned back into the chair, looking out the window, letting a few tears of longing escape my eyes. But I quickly brushed them away; soon we'd be reunited.

"Are you falling asleep on me!?" Tucker asked, aghast.

I turned to him. "Uh, no." I grinned. "It's three thirty; the night is still young," I half cooed, half giggled. He snorted and turned his attention back to the road.

"Play the Used," he muttered after a few minutes. I nodded, listening to him. I popped the CD out of its case; Lies for the Liars; and put Meteora back in its case.

The Used sort of woke us up. By the time four AM rolled around and the CD was over, we were pretty awake but still falling over in exhaustion. Grinning, I put my only Rise Against CD in, The Sufferer and the Witness.

"You're evil," he nearly croaked.

I laughed. "But it'll keep us up."

By the time the CD was over, Tucker was hallucinating. I told him, firmly, to pull over.

"But I'm not sleepy," he said as he swatted at imaginary bugs. "Damn mosquitoes," he muttered, eyelids drooping.

He listened to me, though. And without a word, he snatched the blanket and pillow from my hand, got comfortable, and curled up to sleep.

I stared out the window at the cars as they passed by, and watched the sun rise. As it got higher, I grabbed the black drapes I had pulled down from my own windows and strung them up around the car to prevent sunlight. I knew I was to try and get some sleep, but also knew I wouldn't be able to. I told myself to get the kid up at or around ten.

Grabbing my CD player, I tuned into the lulling voice of Davey Havok, the calming snare of Adam Carson, the sweet tune of Hunter, and the almost violent playing of Jade Pudget.


	23. Please Don't Change

AHH okay. You guys are going to hate me for these next two chapters.

YAY.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; don't own the Used; don't own Rise Against.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

No flaming plz.

* * *

-Danny's POV-

I could literally feel my eyes as they glowed scarlet. Taking a deep breath that sounded more like a gasp, I tried to return my eyes back to their green state, but of course they wouldn't go. A snarl escaped my lips, anger like a drug. I rounded on Vlad.

"_You're the reason I've been doubting myself_," I snarled, I growled, I hissed. Vlad's face was impassive; dark, but no other emotion on it. He was in his ghost form as well, looking at me with a cool, calculating look.

"And why must you play scapegoat, Daniel?"

My hands balled into fists. My gloves stretched across my skin, chaffing against it, making me want to rip them off and stain my skin with Vlad's vile blood.

"Because you're the one who adopted me!" I roared at him, knowing my eyes were alight with fiery red fury. "You're the one who showed me my goddamn molecules! I was _fine _when I was with…when I was with…," I said, but blanched in the process of trying to say her name.

Vlad, however, did the honors for me. "Say her name. Samantha Manson. Sam Manson. _Sammy_."

I know my face grew in pallor, even more than it had before hand. He said her name with such utter loathing.

"How can you hate her so much if you don't even know her?" I whispered. Vlad merely shrugged, a ghost of a smile, and lashed out at me.

Pure, unhindered anger. Controlling, consuming. No part of me belonged to my actual brain anymore; it was just this anger.

My world became a slow motion film. No noise, no sounds. Just red, dripping from the corners, like blood. I blinked, gritted my teeth together, found Vlad's chest, and smacked my fist—_hard_—into it.

He staggered back. Then, with a smirk, a kick to my own chest. I took it bravely, not even flinching as it crushed (or so it seemed to me) my chest. I moved out of the way of it; he was aiming it at my face, but my body was in slow motion as well.

A twirl, smacking the back of my hand into his face. I felt flesh give way to my knuckle, tear open the skin. I didn't even skip a beat. As Vlad winced in pain and shocked from his ripped open cheek, I doubled back, smashing my palm into his nose and thrusting upwards.

Blood sprayed, like some sort of malicious waterfall. I licked my lips, the taste of it lingering in my mouth. A sadistic, horrible grin, and then I lifted my knee up to Vlad's groin. He remained rock solid for about a second; then he collapsed.

Silence greeted my attack, but I didn't mind. He, on the floor, gripped his face and his crotch. I wanted to laugh; I wanted to sneer, step on his chest and clobber him; I wanted to _kill _him. I wanted to _taste _his fear, his life, his _blood_. I wanted to grip his arms, crush his bones, make him hurt half the hurt I was feeling.

Confusion twisted in my gut like a sharp edged knife. Sam or green? Memories from the past, or thoughts of the future? Soft hands pressing against my body or fists pummeling into flesh? Continue this frantic game of charades, this dance with the devil that lead me to shimmy down the path of good; or look ahead, accept the devil's hand in my life, and see things with clarity for the first time and become…evil?

"_Mmmm…Danny_," my brain delivered her voice to me, causing me to cringe, to gasp in pain. Vlad slowly stood up, eyes blazing, but somehow still in control.

Vlad came to smash his clenched hand into my face; I held up a hand, warded it off, and did a pirouette that delivered me to the side of him. Simply but surely, I tucked my leg around his own legs, causing him to flounder.

While he tried to regain his balance, I grabbed his head. He thrashed against me, raising his hand to blast an ectoplasmic ray, when—

—thousands of Vlad's appeared around me. Thousands upon thousands, staring at me, raising their fists and shaking them furiously at me.

"You will not get away with this," they boomed.

They broke through my sound barrier; but they couldn't break through my slow motion state. My head spun around, slowly, to assess the situation.

That was when my world pretty much stopped moving all around.


	24. So Bittersweet

Okay. Feel free to cry for this one. I cried writing it.

No flaming plz XD

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

* * *

-Sam's POV-

My mind was a wreck.

One part of me was screaming to Danny, telling me to run into his hands and just hug the living daylights out of him. To ignore the fact that his eyes were red, his body bloodstained, himself bent low to smash the ghost's head into the ground. To ignore the fact that there were duplicates of the ghost all around us, but ignoring Tucker and I.

Another part of me told me to just turn and run.

The part that was whimpering told me to just curl up into a ball on the ground, shut myself out from the world. I never knew Danny to be violent. Never! What was…

An animalistic rumble escaped Danny's lips. His fiery, violently red eyes were on my own eyes, gazing at me intently. He looked almost as if he were hurt; I wanted to go over and squeeze the hurt and pain from his stare.

"Sam," he croaked.

"Danny," I answered back.

And then, with a sharp crack, Danny hissed through his teeth as green rays hit him from all sides by the clones. He landed on his knees, wincing darkly, and bowed his head against the pain.

"Danny!" I screamed, rushing forward, but Tucker latched onto my arm. His face was white.

"Don't," he moaned at me. I tried to wrench my hand from his grasp but he was a lot stronger than me. "Let his anger or what ever run its course." He trembled slightly, looking at me intently. "This _is _your Danny, right?"

I nodded thickly.

"Is he…has he always been like this?"

I got the gist of his question. "No," I said solemnly. "He's not dead. I…I think he's half ghost, half human." Think? Well, he had told me. But I was still…questioning…

He still looked pale, his dark skin turning whiter as the moment continued like a slug moving across a sidewalk. We watched as Danny slowly pulled himself up, looked me straight in the eyes, and give me a grimace.

I held my gaze levelly as his eyes slowly dimmed from red to green. "S-Sam?" he stuttered.

Using all my force, I twisted my hand from Tucker's grasp and ran to him. He held his hands out, disheveled, as the ghost allowed us a moment of comfort from one another.

He gripped me tightly. "Sammy," he moaned into my hair. I held him back, oblivious to the smirking ghosts that surrounded us.

"I missed you, Danny," I whispered, crying. Why the hell was I crying? Because of being overjoyed?

He pulled back, held my face, and planted his lips on my own. I kissed him back, but neither of us had enough time to deepen the kiss—

—because the ghost suddenly grabbed hold of the scruff of my shirt (Danny's no doubt) and jerked me upward. He pulled me up so that my face was level with his.

"Who might you be, pretty girl?" he sneered. "The fabulous Sam Manson that's always on Daniel's mind?"

I kicked him in the chest. He didn't even flinch. "Let go of me," I snarled, while Danny shouted the same thing behind me but with a 'her' instead of 'me.'

The ghost kept his sneer in place, as, somehow, the duplicates molded into his flesh. He brought me closer to his face. Acting on a crazy impulse, I reached out and poked him harshly in the eyes.

He dropped me as if I were lead. Roaring, he spread out his hands and shot that weird green jet thing. And it hit me square in the chest.

I was flung backwards, landing with an _oof _on the ground next to Tucker. I got up, woozy but determined to stand by Danny's side.

Danny was snarling, but the red eyes didn't return. "Don't you _dare _hurt Sam _ever_ again," he screamed, arms ablaze with green fire.

The ghost turned to me as I started to stumble back to Danny. Both him and Danny, at the same time, hollered at me, "STAY OUT OF THIS!"

Startled, I nodded and headed back to Tucker. I put my head on his shoulder, resigning to let my body weight relax on his. He gripped me tightly, watching with eyes that were wide and unlike his.

Pulling a fist, Danny turned to smash it into the ghost's face.

He caught it; pushed back; brought his other hand around to let it make an impact on Danny. Danny twirled away, wrenched his hand free, and put his hands on the ground to prepare for a round house kick. Twirling madly, he managed to smash his legs into the ghost's shins. (They were fighting on the concrete; we were located outside of Vlad's large castle, near the concrete field where he had placed a basket ball net for God knows what purpose.)

The ghost flew up almost immediately afterwards. Danny rose along with him, raising his hands. Ice flew from them, pelting the ghost in the face an adding to the scars that were decorating his face as if they were in style. One actually went so deep, that when the ghost went to scream in pain, I could see the icicle jutting into his mouth.

I winced in pain, even though it wasn't happening to me. But Danny didn't seem to see that he was in pain, or if he did, he certainly didn't care! While the ghost was preoccupied with his own rambling roars of pain, blood pouring down his throat, Danny smashed his fist into the ghosts face.

The ghost reared back, tried to kick Danny in the stomach, but Danny dodged the kick. The ghost, obviously livid as hell, raised his hands, and I noticed, a little late, that his hands were replaced with glowing balls of fire. Not the green fire that had been Danny's a while back—real, honest to gosh fire.

Danny didn't notice it though; his gaze was concentrated on the ghost's face. And suddenly the flaming hands gripped Danny's forearms.

Danny roared in pain, jerking backwards, but the hands were firm. I could smell the singed clothing, and eventually the singed skin. My face was wet and sticky with tears, not to mention sweaty with fear.

Fumbling backwards, trying to free himself from the ghost's killing hands, Danny collapsed. The hands let go, and I saw with awful clarity that his skin was black. Black, black, black, singed and dead.

He moaned, trying to get up. But his hands were working awfully, awfully slowly. He winced in pain, his body convulsing, literally, in it.

The ghost took the opportunity to gain advantage. He kicked Danny in the stomach, causing him to fall down.

I didn't notice it until then, but tears were running down my cheeks so fast I could literally feel the water soak through my shirt. I just watched, horror stricken, listening to Danny's request of me that I stay out of the fight.

Danny curled up on the ground. The ghost smirked, leaned down, and whispered to him. The whisper carried, however;

"Never attack a friend, because then they will become your enemy." A sweet and sadistic smile as Danny whimpered.

"Just end it.

"No!" I screamed, finally losing my nerve and running towards Danny. But I wasn't in time.

The ghost raised his hand, palm outstretched, and the blast hit Danny square in the chest. A last, convulsing gasp, and Danny lay still.

I collapsed on the ground, now crawling towards him, calling his name out as I sobbed. My shoulders heaved; my eyes blurry with tears. The ghost watched me with disinterest as I inched my way to Danny.

"No, no, no," I moaned under my breath. It wasn't true. It wasn't true. It wasn't…

I finally got to Danny; grabbed his hand. Coming closer to his face, I looked down at it. It was serene, as if finally, he had reached a world that was appropriate for them. Shaking quite visibly, I bent down, kissed his cold lips, and felt for a pulse. Remembering—such a long time back—that even in ghost form, he had a heart beat.

No heart beat. I looked down at his hand, then at his face, then at his singed and blackened arms.

I placed my head on his chest. And cried.

That was it; the big finale. My best friend, the one person I really truly loved…the only other person I had ever met that gave me the love I needed…dead.

It was over. The end.

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There WILL be an Epilouge. 


	25. Epilouge

Well...here's the last chapter.

Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.  
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio.  
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"  
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

**Warning** (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, **do not read this**. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!**

* * *

She raised a container, glasses planted firmly in place on her face, and smiled grimly at it. "I think I've finally unlocked the secret to you," she told the green substance. It said nothing in reply; but, of course, she hadn't expected it to. She walked over to the large, gaping maw of metal that was implanted into the wall of her living room, and turned her head to her colleague.

"Tuck?" she asked. She turned slightly more and found him holding up a jumpsuit that he had been working the bugs out of.

"It's ready," he said dryly. She nodded, pursing her lips, trying to calm her sickening heart rate. She held up the container that she held tightly in her hands and waved it around, watching as the green substance sloshed inside.

A short nod from him, then a grin. "Don't talk to any random floating objects while in there, okay?"

She smirked at him. "Uh, no." And then, turning around, she placed the container on the small latch that remained empty. It was silent for a pregnant moment…and then the maw suddenly was filled.

A swirling green illusion was placed in front of the two scientists, casting an eerie glow to the two. She, decked out in Gothic garb, him, dressed in the traditional lab coat. She turned to grin shakily at him. He raced to her, handed her the jumpsuit, and pointed feverishly at the portal.

"Go find him," he ordered.

She nodded once, pulling the jumpsuit on over her clothes. She slowly took off her goggles, handed them to him, and hugged him briefly.

"Thank you," she said, her throat sticking.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll do anything for a friend."

A deep breath, a glance around, trying to remember what it looked like, in case she didn't come back. And then, without giving herself time to doubt herself, she dove into the swirling green mass of nothingness.

Silence greeted her. Quiet, eerie, and deafening in its finality. She pursed her lips, biting back the words of question and being unsure, and moved forward.

She assumed the feeling she felt at that moment was how it felt to fly. Moving forward she accelerated forward, moving backwards she accelerated backwards. She moved her hands around her as if swimming, not exactly sure what else to do. She figured it would take quite a while to get used to the feeling.

But she didn't have time. She had to find him…if he was in here…she _had _to find him. She wouldn't rest until she had found him and she was holding him, pressing her lips onto his, just as she had done more than ten years ago.

Searching. Minutes melded into hours, hours into, unknown to her, days. She ran into ghosts, but none of them bothered her too much; they just stared at her. Some jeered at her, wondering why a human was wondering the ghost zone, but none attacked. She did notice that she was almost invisible half the time. It was weird, to say the least; one minute she felt completely solid, next she felt as if she were just a floating hand. She wondered and marveled briefly at the world in which the ghosts lived in.

She had been allies of the ghosts for around eights years. She kept the peace between ghosts, but never by actually coming into the portal. Was that why, when she was fully solid, none of the ghosts were attacking? She assumed she had to be a sort of legend; the only human known in history to work _with _the ghosts instead of against them.

Biting her lip, she began to think about doubling back. It seemed as if it had been a few hours, when in the regular world, it was really a week's time. She was about to turn back, give up, come back again…when she saw something.

A boy, the only ghost so far with pale white skin (even though it was tinged slightly with green) and a black jumpsuit. Her heart jumpstarted.

His hair was white, whiter than the snow that littered the ground every so often on Christmas morning. She could barely breathe; was it…him?

Finding her voice, she stopped behind him. He was just floating, his back still turned. She tapped him on the shoulder, placing her hand gently on it. "Danny?" she whispered.

He turned around.

* * *

No, I will not be writing a sequel.

To all who have reviewed - thank you so much! You guys always brightened my day with these. As those who read these notes would know, I had already written the story well before I put it up. I'm fond of this story, as it's just...I don't know. Heartfelt.

To all who will review in the future - thank you so much. You guys will always make me smile, I'm sure :D

To all who will stop reading this fanfiction during one of the pushy scenes (ex., the scene with Sam and Danny in the bedroom) - I'm sorry you guys found it insulting, or what ever you found it as. But it's just a fanfiction...and I rated it "T" for a reason! Warning, always a warning.

To all who think this fanfiction was stupid, or silly - I'm sorry you feel that way, but I guess you're all entitled to your opinions. I'm an aspiring young writer and hope that one day I will be graced with the priviliage to see a book with my name on it on display in Barnes and Noble.

Thank you guys, every one of you - those who said my writing was good, those who liked the story, those who didn't - you guys made me happy.

Well...on to another story!! XD Catch me with any upcoming oneshots? Maybe even a series in my future. Well...bye!


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